


Warrior Daughter

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: The Captain and The Valkyrie Queen [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Shameless Smut, Smut, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-09-21 21:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 174,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: The conclusion of the Captain and the Valkyrie Queen trilogy. Called back to Asgard to resume your throne, no longer can you ignore the darkness festering in the heart of the Valkryjur. Discontent reigns, a faction of warriors with a vendetta rises, secrets abound. What was the real reason your soul was banned from Asgard? Who covets your throne? And just how far are they willing to go to take it?With Steve and Bucky at your side, and Thor and Loki waiting to assist, can you find the culprits responsible for interrupting your sjelevenn bond and sear the darkness from the heart of your people? Or will Odin follow through on his threat?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warnings: Smut, fluff, NSFW, slight angst
> 
> Song: Warrior Daughter by Wildwood Kin

## Chapter One

* * *

You rested against the pool’s infinity edge, arms crossed on the lip as you listened to the quiet lapping of the ocean beneath the house and the music playing quietly in the background. Only Tony would have a home in the Maldives on a small private island, close enough to be serviced by the nearby luxury resort.

When you’d arrived three days ago, the sun had been coming up over the ocean, the rays warming your face even as the breeze brought the scent of salt water, sand, and palm trees to your nose. A message from Tony had been waiting once you’d crossed the small stretch of sand.

The house was stocked, meals would be delivered unless you called over to the resort to cancel or book reservations in one of the restaurants. As Steve was _the_ Captain America, you’d decided to take a few days alone first before checking out the resort. Even when the concierge came to deliver your meals, Steve had made himself scarce.

You, on the other hand, were a little known Avenger. Up until a few months back, you’d been the normie. Not enhanced, nothing special, just another body to the public who wanted superheroes and superpowers. Wouldn’t they be surprised the next time New York needed saving and a woman on a horse with wings showed up to back up Cap.

The thought made you snicker softly even as the water you floated in, warm from the sun, rippled and lapped around you when Steve stepped into the pool and swam closer. His arms went around your waist; his chest settled against your back. You laid your head on your arms and sighed when his mouth began to whisper across your skin.

“Mrs. Rogers,” he said, smile in his voice.

“Captain,” you snickered.

“You’re gonna turn into a fish you spend any more time in this pool.” He closed his teeth on the side of your neck and bit down gently.

“And yet you’re not enticing me to leave,” you sighed, loving the attention the last few days had allowed him to pay to you and you alone.

“In this tiny bikini? You enticed me right into the pool, dollface,” he said even as his mouth continued up to tug on your earlobe.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” he murmured, licking and sucking your pulse point.

“Describe it to me again?” you asked.

He smiled against your skin. “The ocean is the clearest, brightest blue, like looking through a turquoise crystal. Where it meets the horizon, it blends together, disappears to become one solid mass of blue. The sand is the whitest I’ve ever seen, powder soft looking, and the fish are like rainbows. Yellows and blues, purples and greens.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” you whispered, letting his voice paint pictures for you.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“Sap,” you chuckled, knowing Steve was just making you feel better in his own unique way.

He turned you around, pressing your back against the pool’s edge while lifting your legs around his waist. “Baby,” he murmured, lightly squeezing your thighs.

The hint of pity made you sigh. “Sometimes this blind thing really sucks,” you murmured, stretching your arms out on the edge of the pool and tilting your face to the sky.

His hand caught your chin and tugged it down. “We gotta take the good with the bad, right?” He kissed you before you could answer, knowing already what that answer would be, and worried his teeth into your lip.

You hummed quietly in pleasure and brought your hands in to touch his body. Stroking his chest, you loved the feel of the water on his velvet soft skin.

It wasn’t the first time he’d made love to you in the pool — the lack of neighbours brought out the deviant in your Steve. He’d been nearly insatiable for two days, happily and hornily taking you on every flat surface, and some not so flat ones, whenever you walked by.

If the item poking your belly was anything to go by, he was feeling his oats again.

You reached between you and gave him a firm stroke. “Why, Captain Rogers, are you naked? Did I marry an exhibitionist?”

“There ain’t no one out here to see or hear you scream, baby girl. If you think I’m not going to take advantage of that, you’d be wrong.”

You smirked a wicked grin. “What if I wanted to go for a swim? Or head over to the resort and walk the beach? You going to keep up your nudist tendencies?”

He gave a funny little snort. “Would you want me to?”

“Hell no!” you laughed and lightly touched his tattoo while continuing to stroke his cock.

Steve heaved you a little higher and began to walk through the water. “C’mon, sweetheart. While the pool’s fun, I wanna take my time and love on my wife. And, I don't need to sunburn my ass again.”

You gave a little snort of laughter. “Good thing you heal up fast, huh?”

“Let’s go to bed,” he chuckled.

“I could go for a mid-afternoon siesta before we go out tonight,” you agreed.

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping, wife,” Steve said pressing your back into the glass door and pulling on the strings to the bottom half of your suit.

It fell to the floor with a wet plop as he forced it from between you, his mouth staying busy tugging at the triangle cups to get your top off.

“You could just ask for help if you’re in that much of a hurry,” you teased, reaching up to pull the string free at the back of your neck. The one around your rib cage would be stuck until he pulled away from the glass, but that didn’t seem to matter to Steve when he lifted you higher to latch his lips around your nipple.

“I’d a ripped it,” he mumbled around the mouthful of flesh he was teasing, “but you got all hissy when I did that with the other one.”

Burying your hand in his hair, you gave it a tug which made him moan. “I’ve only got the two, Rogers.”

“Not like you need clothes anyway, dollface. Spend the days naked. No one around to see.”

He nipped a stinging bite into the flesh of your breast and made you hiss in both pleasure and pain. “I’m not a nudist like you, Cap,” you snickered only to sigh and squirm when he went back to sucking and flicking your nipple.

“I don’t have tan lines.”

You rolled your eyes even as pleasurable shocks began humming through your body. “If I spent all my time naked, I would still have tan lines. They would just be in the outline of one red, white, and blue superhero.”

He burst out laughing but drew you away from the wall to wander inside the house where the breeze still managed to blow, wicking away some of the water from your skin and drying your bodies. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“No, you can’t.”

Cupping his face, you lightly traced his features. It had become a habit, something you’d taken too often doing since that first night what felt like a lifetime ago. He never stopped you. Never batted your hands away because he was busy or tired or unhappy with your touch. More often than not, he would smile and hold you closer, tighter, content to let you map what you could no longer see in the traditional sense. Even now as he made his way to the bed you’d shared these last few days; he only continued to look up at you with a small smile on his lips.

“I love your face,” you sighed, touching his lips and feeling them spread into a grin.

“I love yours, so I guess we’re even,” he chuckled.

“It’s so close to perfect,” you said, teasing present in your voice.

“Hey!” he scoffed and knelt on up on the platform bed where he stretched out over you and flopped, purposely squishing you into the plushness when you refused to release your legs from his waist.

Playful Steve was one of your favourite Steve’s, always able to make you giggle. “Get off of me you big oaf!” you laughed, struggling a little, both of you aware you could put him through the wall if you wanted to.

“Oaf?” he gasped. “First you slander the perfection of my face, and now you call me an oaf? Sacrilege!”

“It can’t be sacrilege if your not a sacred icon, Rogers,” you quipped only to shriek in surprise when his fingers dug into your ribs.

“And now you question the sanctity of my image?” he huffed in mock affront. “How dare you!?”

Laughing, screaming, giggling and shrieking, you fought off the hands attacking your ribs and bucked your hips up only to have everything stop on a stuttering moan when the action saw him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Oh, god… Steve.” There was nothing better than the overly full feeling of having him inside you, so deep he pressed against your cervix and had fireworks bursting to life in your blood.

“Damn,” he gasped, as unprepared for the joining as you had been.

You both sank into the bedding, the laughter ending to slip seamlessly into quiet sighs and moans when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Steve’s hand closed on the back of your neck, the other went beneath you, working to tilt your hips into his as he ground down into your pelvis. His hard chest brushed against yours with each slow, long thrust and glide of his hips. His back arched elegantly, gracefully beneath your palms, setting you digging in and dragging your nails up his back. Cheek to cheek, he panted in your ear, the slight stubble on his jaw rubbing sensually against yours.

“Steve,” tumbled softly from your lips.

“You feel so good, baby,” he sighed, nuzzling down to kiss your neck and scrape his teeth over your pulse.

His words made you smile, so in tune with the gentle loving making. They were just so Steve. He’d been so incredibly attentive, so sweet. Even when he had you pressed against the wall of the shower fucking you like a beast, there had still been so much love, so much adoration you’d felt swamped by it.

You tugged at his hair, urging his lips to yours where they met and parted, soft kisses, opened mouth and searing your quiet whimpers blending with his groans. He was hot and hard and throbbing, spearing through your walls in slow torture, taking you to the edge but no further. His tongue in your mouth was no better, pressing and tracing yours, flicking the edge of your teeth as the sweat began to build on your skin.

“Rogers,” you finally growled, feeling as if fire walked the paths of your veins. “If you don’t give me more…”

It was a threat you didn’t have to finish for he laughed and sat up, bringing you to rest on his thighs, your arms around his neck keeping you tethered. “I dunno, baby. You seem pretty inclined to stay nice and close, wrapped around me like white on rice. How am I supposed to get enough leverage to take you harder?”

Arching an amused brow, you flipped him swiftly to his back, forcing a shocked gasp from his throat. “I could always just take it,” you purred, rising and falling over him, ripping moans and vicious curses from him.

“Yeah, yeah you could, baby,” he groaned and gripped your hips to grind you down harder.

A smug grin flitted across your face, and you were just getting into it when he gave a hard buck of his hips and sent you tumbling to the side. He pounced like a cat and pinned you face down on the mattress.

“Or I could just take you,” he growled, holding your wrists down as he forced your knees apart and teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Steve…” you whimpered, swaying your back to encourage him deeper.

“You want me back in there?” he asked, laying sucking kisses along your spine.

“Yes, dammit!”

He teased you with lazy thrusts, just the tip sliding through your quaking walls. “Then maybe you should ask nicely,” he purred, nipping into your shoulder and leaving a stinging mark.

You turned your head, wet hair falling across your cheek as you spread your legs further apart and arched into him. “Oh. Please, Captain. I need your thick cock,” you said and moaned like a pornstar when he began to sink deeper.

“Yeah, sweetheart? How bad? How bad does my queen want it?” he asked, rubbing his nose on your cheek.

“So bad, Stevie. So very bad. Need you filling me up,” you cried knowing precisely what it would do to him.

The grip on your wrists tightened, his body landed heavily on yours, and he was driving back inside you with one hard thrust, crushing you into the mattress and making you cry out.

“Like that, darlin’?” he growled. “Is that what you need?”

All you could do was moan and arch back, suck in air and dig your nails into the bedding.

Dominant, commanding Steve was another of your favourites. It was nice to be taken, worshiped, driven crazy by his rough treatment. His tongue swept up your spine, over your shoulder, and he nuzzled into your ear.

A massive rumble of sound like a pleased cat poured from his chest. Then his hand lifted from your wrist to grip a handful of hair. He pulled gently, forcing your head to raise and your neck to stretch until he could kiss you tenderly, lips brushing as he sucked your bottom one between his.

Small whimpers became heavy pants and groans as he continued to thrust forcefully, sending shockwaves of pleasure rushing through your veins. The building pressure couldn’t be stopped — the pounding a near punishing pace. You could only hold on, dig your nails into the sheets, and scream when he forced your climax from you, sending you crashing into bliss.

The guttural groan Steve let loose, dragged from him thanks to your contracting body, would have made you laugh if you’d been able to draw in air, but Steve collapsed down on top of you with the final pulse of his release; the warmth of it made you shiver. He freed your hair but only so he could bury his nose against your nape, rubbing gently as he recovered, heart hammering against your spine.

You sighed, the weight and warmth of him comforting even as it made it hard to breathe.

“You okay, baby?” he asked peeling himself from your back and pulling away.

The light brush of his fingers on your skin made you smile as he tugged the remaining tie of your swimsuit free and pulled it out from beneath you. You stretched like a cat, all long limbs and happy purring. “Mmm, very.”

“Good.” He kissed your shoulder and dropped down beside you. His arms went around your waist, and he cuddled you close, encouraging you to curl up on his chest.

Lightly tracing patterns on his flesh, you breathed him in and smiled. “I love it when you get all growly and forceful.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Forceful, huh?”

“Go all Captain on my ass,” you teased.

His big hand landed on your bottom and squeezed. “I quite like your ass.”

“No shit,” you snickered, stroking your foot up and down his calf.

His other hand landed on your thigh, and when you stroked your toes up to his knee, he caught you behind yours and gave it a jerk, so you landed straddling his hips. Crossing your arms over his chest, you stretched out on top of him with an utterly unnecessary wiggle.

“Baby,” he growled.

You only smiled, well aware of the effect you were having. Super soldier stamina was a godsend. “You think anyone would notice if we just… never went home?” you asked, only half joking.

“Pretty sure Tony threatened to come looking so… yeah.”

Fingertips trailed up and down your spine, tracing circles and little figure eights. “I’d hear him coming long before he got here.”

“Can’t run away from our problems, (Y/N). No matter how nice it is to have you all to myself.”

“Ditto,” you sighed, resting your cheek on your hand.

“Hey.” He tapped the end of your nose. “We’ve got this. We fought off a soul stealin’ alien. We can do anything.”

“This is… different.” You brought your hand to his mark and stroked it lightly. “So much rides on me figuring this out.”

He rolled the two of you over, caging you beneath him with a leg thrown over yours. “And you will. We will figure this out.”

Your hand remained on his throat, lightly stroking, finding comfort in knowing he was wholly yours now, even more so than the rings on your finger proclaimed. “It’s been so long, Steve. What if I don’t have what it takes anymore? How do I go about being Queen when I can’t see?”

“You can see, it’s just in a different way,” he soothed.

“I can’t see to read, Steve. How am I to read the messages sent, the requests for assistance, the commands of Odin when I can’t see the damn writing?”

“You’re borrowing trouble, baby girl.”

You gave him a half-hearted shove. “You’re no help,” you pouted, annoyed he hadn’t budged an inch.

His hand caressed your cheek. “But I will be. So will Buck. We can read stuff for you.”

“You speak Asgardian now, do you?”

He paused then sighed. “Guess I’ll have to learn, won’t I? Or, you use that gift of yours, that big heart and bigger brain and pick one of those Valkyries to trust. Like the girl who brought you Loki. She seemed… decent.”

“Eira?” You hadn’t really thought about any of them since you’d commanded them all back to Asgard.

“Yeah. It’s not like you’re going to be able to hide this, (Y/N). They’re going to figure it out. Better to just get it out in the open and cultivate a few allies.”

“Smart and pretty,” you huffed, shoving him to his back where you returned to straddling his waist. “I don’t have to think about it for another day and a half. I’m on my honeymoon with the hottest man on Midgard. I think I can think of better things to do than worry about what might be.”

“Just Midgard?” he asked, grin wide.

You bent to press a kiss to his lips. “It’s been a millennium since I was on Asgard. Who’s to say if someone there is prettier than you?”

He snorted out a laugh and spanked you sharply on the bottom making you hum in appreciation. “Keep it up, woman. See what happens.”

“You gonna go all Captain on my ass again?” you teased, flicking your tongue over his lip.

He spanked the other cheek, and you gasped in excitement. “I’ll go something on your ass. Sitting down tonight might be a problem.”

“Ooh, Captain!” you giggled and bit his lip. “So commanding.”

He gave a deadly sounding growl and flipped you beneath him where neither of you formed a cohesive sentence for some time.

***

Your ass was only slightly tender when you pulled your dress on later that night. Made of lace, it came to mid thigh and was held up with spaghetti straps. Nat and Wanda had done an excellent job packing you a bag, and you’d be sure to thank them when you got home.

As you were bent to slip the strap of your sandal over your foot, Steve walked in and gave a sharp inhale, making you snicker.

“That good, huh?” you asked, straightening to give him the full view.

“Damn…” he squeaked and made you laugh even harder.

You adjusted the tight hem and smoothed out the bodice. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

He stalked closer and circled you like you were prey. “Are you sure that's a dress? Looks like something you'd wear under a dress.”

“Oh, Steve!” you laughed. “You're in for a surprise if you think _this_ is my underwear.”

His brow arched and a wicked smile curled his lips when he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his body. “Yeah? Just whatcha got on under that dress?”

“Take me out and show me a good time, soldier and maybe I'll let you find out,” you teased and winked at him.

“How's dinner and dancing sound?” he asked, swaying with you toward the door.

“Pretty damn good, actually.”

“Cabin fever?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Me too,” he snickered.

You stroked your hands down his chest, humming at the feel of soft cotton beneath your palms, “Is this the blue shirt?” you asked.

“I have lots of blue shirts,” he smirked.

“Is it _the_ blue shirt, Stevie. You know the one I mean.” Hunger pooled in your belly because that shirt, that abused, overstretched, almost too small shirt, was a tease of epic proportions.

“And? What if it is?” he asked, his grin getting fuller.

“I need the visuals, Rogers,” you growled, tracing his muscles through the cotton, up to his shoulders and down his arms. “Fuck me… it is too,” you sighed. “Damn I love that shirt.”

He gave a bark of laughter, caught your wandering hands, and dragged you toward the door. “Now who’s insatiable?”

“This is dirty pool, Stevie. Dirty pool!” you huffed but followed him. You could hear the boat coming and were really hungry.

He paused before heading outside to pull his glasses from his pocket and slide them on his face.

It made you smile every time. “Your nerd sexy like that. All beefy and then there are those mathematician glasses, and that little scruff thing you’ve got happening. Add in the hair that’s just a touch too long. You’ve become the sexy professor.”

He gave a sharp bark of laughter and handed you your cane. “Does that mean you’re hot for teacher?”

He turned to get the door, and you gave his butt a firm squeeze. “Damn right.”

“Babe.” He shot you a look that radiated exasperation.

“What?” You shrugged, letting the cane drop to snap straight and reached out to take his arm. It was good practice to use the cane in a non-threatening environment, or so the note attached from Wanda told you. This was the first real opportunity to do so since Matt had taught you the ropes.

“Let’s go have some fun,” he sighed, but there was a smile on his face when he led you outside and down to the dock.

The quinjet sat off to the side and was currently invisible as this half of the house sat facing the resort, and the planes really were far too recognizable as SHIELD property.

Holding Steve’s arm, you reached the end of the dock where the concierge, Abdullah, waited patiently.

“Miss (Y/N)? I did not realize…” he gasped, pulling on the rope he had attached to the dock to drag the boat closer.

“It's fine, Abdullah. My husband is more than capable of assisting me into the boat,” you assured him with a smile.

“Ah, at last, I meet your husband. For a while, I thought perhaps you were playing a trick on old Abdullah.” His smile was, but the waving finger was rather scolding.

“No trick as you can see.” Steve held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Abdullah murmured, a frown forming to erase his smile. “You look… very familiar.”

“I've got one of those faces,” Steve said, gave a shrug, and stepped into the boat before turning to lift you in after him.

It was completely unnecessary, but you were keeping up appearances and being the blind, slightly helpless one was good cover.

Plus, Steve. Muscles. Yum.

He led you to a seat, and the boat got underway, too loud to make conversation with Abdullah as he sent you zipping across the water to the dock of the hotel.

There, more people milled about. Two younger men tied off the moorings while Steve helped you out of the boat, tucked your hand back in his elbow, and led you after the now chattering Abdullah who was gushing about the resort. He stopped at the end of the dock and became very flustered.

“I am so sorry. I am rambling on about our surroundings, and you are… that is to say… I am not prepared…”

Steve finally took pity on the man. “It's fine. (Y/N) likes it when you describe things. She's only recently blind and remembers colours and shapes. Descriptions help her visualize.”

“Oh, I see. My condolences on your accident, miss.”

You smiled graciously. “Thank you, Abdullah. I appreciate that. But something smells… divine and I'm starving.”

“Yes, yes, of course! Right this way to our Subsix restaurant. Anything you like is part of your stay.” He dug into his pocket and returned with two gold pins. “One for each of you. Order whatever you like at the restaurants or bars. No one will charge you as long as you wear those.”

Steve was quick to pin his to his shirt but tucked yours in his pocket for safekeeping as Abdulla was off again. You listened to him chatter with only half an ear while taking in the lush tropical surroundings. Birds sang, flowers tempted your nose, and the ocean lapped softly in the background.

There were other people, but the sun had ducked low to the horizon, casting long shadows and cooling off the evening. Most people were dining or getting ready for the night of revelry to come, giving the resort a hushed, deserted feeling.

Arriving at the restaurant, you followed Abdullah into the interior, the air changing to be more refreshing with the addition of the air conditioning.

“Stairs,” Steve murmured.

You let your cane slide forward and off the edge, not that you needed it, but the practice was kind of fun, and you shifted your hand to Steve’s forearm as you slowly made your way downward. A frown formed when you got to the bottom for odd shapes were hanging from the ceiling, and something about the windows surrounding the space seemed… odd.

“Oh… wow!” Steve murmured.

“ _Sjelevenn_?” you asked quietly, careful not to use his name when Abdullah was already suspicious.

“We’re… under the ocean! It’s like being in a giant aquarium!”

He sounded all of six, incredibly excited, and aching to get closer. Chuckling softly, you let him return your hand to his elbow and followed both men toward the far side of the room where Abdullah held out a chair, but Steve helped you into it.

“I will leave you to your dinner. When you are ready to leave tonight, there will be someone waiting at the boat to return you home.” He bowed to the table, his smile big and full.

“Thank you,” Steve said as he sat beside you.

As you began to break down your cane, you smirked at Steve, mesmerized by your surroundings. “Describe it to me.”

He glanced your way then shifted closer to drape his arm over the back of your chair. “How much can you see?”

You tilted your head toward him. “The room, the weird ceiling, but beyond the windows is difficult. I get that there’s water and I think… a reef? But it’s hard to tell. Sound doesn’t travel as easily through water and the glass is exceptionally thick.”

Steve brushed your hair back, lightly stroking the bare skin of your shoulder. The room is dark. Dark chairs, dark bar, but there is a glow, a nearly neon blue that lights up the reef and ceiling. It’s muted by the circles of paper on the roof, but under it, you glow like an ethereal fairy.”

“Steve,” you smiled and blushed.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he whispered, cupping your nape and rubbing his thumb beneath your ear, “but under these lights and with those eyes… damn,” he sighed and brushed his lips against yours.

You cupped his cheek and sank deeper, tilting your head when your noses bumped and hummed happily.

“Ah, young love.”

The new voice startled you into drawing apart; your attention solely focused on Steve in that instant.

“Honeymoon,” Steve chuckled. “Comes with the territory.”

“Indeed.” The man gave a short bow. “I am Siad and will serve you tonight. Might I recommend a bottle of wine?”

You sat back, finished closing up your cane, and let Steve order.

***

“I think I’m going to explode,” you sighed, leaning your head on Steve’s shoulder as you walked through the resort.

“I think Siad thought the same thing. I don’t think he’s ever seen a woman eat as much as you just did,” Steve snickered and wrapped his arm around your waist.

You nudged him firmly in the ribs with your elbow. “Like you were any better.”

“Hey, I’m a big guy! It’s expected I’ll eat more.”

Wrapping your arm around his waist in return, you tugged at his shirt. “I think you overdid it though, Steve. Getting a little broad around the middle there.”

He snorted at your teasing and led you toward the beach Siad had told you had the beautiful sounding alfresco lounge area he’d called Dune. “I’m not getting fat.”

“I don’t know,” you continued, running your fingers along his ridged side. “Feels a little porky to me.”

His hand dropped to grab a handful of your ass. “Stop making fun, or you’re gonna regret it.”

You wiggled away from his tight grip to poke him in the chest with the head of your cane. “Did it sound like I regretted it when I sassed you this afternoon?”

“You think I can’t pink your ass up more than I already have?” Steve growled, grabbing the end of your cane to tug you into his chest and hold you there with the arm of steel he banded behind your back.

“Such threats, Captain,” you murmured, grinning up at him. “You’ve got me all a quiver.” The shudder you gave wasn’t entirely fake when you lifted up on your toes and wrapped your arm around his neck.

“One of these days, (Y/N), you’re gonna push me to spank that ass until you can’t sit down. Then I’m just gonna start calling you, her majesty Pink Cheeks.”

Bursting out laughing, you kissed him right there in the middle of the resort, slightly more active now that the music was beginning to thump and ripple through the air. He hummed, wrapped his other arm around you and lifted you straight off your feet as he kissed you like a man starved.

Only once you needed air did you break the kiss, resting your forehead on his and breathing harsh and heavy with him. “Fuck, I love you.”

He chuckled, twisting a little to swing you back and forth like a pendulum. “You and that mouth.”

“Mmm, you know you love it. Filth and all,” you snickered.

“I especially love it on me,” he purred and nipped into your lower lip before returning you to the ground.

“Dirty!” you barked and laughed.

He hooked your fingers back into the crook of his elbow and tugged you down the path toward the music. “You make me that way.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that, Stevie.”

“Can’t keep my hands off you, baby girl. That body of yours fills my brain full of thoughts,” he said so casually he could have been talking about baseball.

“Just wait. No one knows us here, and I’m going to dance with my husband,” you said just as easily, though the jump and spike in his pulse betrayed the effect those words had on him.

“Baby,” he groaned, and you laughed. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Just drive you crazy, _sjelevenn_ ,” you taunted, stopping at the top of the short stairs leading down onto the sand to remove your shoes.

Steve crouched, and you found your foot in his hand, your hand going to his shoulder to steady as he slipped them off then worked off his own, tucking his socks inside and rolling up the cuffs of his dress pants. His shirt pulled across his back, strained the seams, and made you snort out a giggle.

“What?” he asked, rising with shoes in hand.

Yours dangled from your fingers as you folded up your cane and gripped his arm firmly, knowing the uneven ground should - would - play havoc with a normal visually impaired person. “I can hear the threads in that shirt scream.”

“No you can’t!” he huffed.

“Must… hold… together!” You made a sound like a high pitch scream of agony only to laugh when he poked you in the belly.

“Cut it out,” he muttered, heat filling his cheeks.

A body approaching had you going on full alert only to relax when you recognized the scent of Abdullah and the sound of his heart. Still, it was Steve who looked up and smiled at the man.

“Abdullah.”

“Sir! I trust Siad looked after you?” he asked, both expectancy and hope in his voice.

“Amazingly well,” Steve agreed. “He pointed us this direction for a little after dinner relaxation and the possibility of dancing with my lovely bride.”

It made you blush when he smiled at you like that. “There was also rumours of dessert?” you asked hopefully.

Steve snorted a quickly quelled laugh when you thumped him in the stomach with your cane.

“Of course, of course!’ Abdullah smiled and nodded. “He said you might be headed our direction. I took the liberty of reserving the two of you the best seat on the beach.” He held out his arm and motioned you to follow.

Steve guided you over the sand, around two-person chairs of wicker and cushions, past kneehigh lanterns set in the sand. There were loungers with umbrellas and a bar set back from the ocean, but he continued to the far side of the sand where a single tree was hung with a half dozen lanterns, and one of those loveseat sized chairs sat beneath the stars.

Abdullah swept a sign, likely one with reserved printed on it, off the cushion and motioned for you to sit. “A beverage perhaps? Something to enjoy as you take in the view-” His face would have been comical if he hadn’t appeared so horrified at his blunder.

“It’s fine, Abdullah. It’s still a view for my husband even if all I can enjoy is the sound and the scent and the feel of the breeze on my skin. Besides, my _sjelevenn_ is an artist. His descriptions of our surroundings do a perfect job of painting pictures for me,” you assured him as you brushed the sand from your feet and curled up on the big round chair.

Steve sent Abdullah a smirk and a shrug when the man only gaped at you like a fish before he quickly shook off his shock. “That is… wonderful!” He waved at someone waiting off to one side.

The waiter rushed forward with a bucket of ice on a stand and set it next to Steve to whom he showed the bottle of what you assumed was champagne.

“Compliments of Mr. Stark,” Abdullah said, bowing his head. “This is Omar. He will take care of you and see to any requests you may have.”

The young man’s face spoke volumes as he bowed, eyes shifting rapidly from your face to Steve’s and back. “It is an honour,” he squeaked, and you knew he knew.

Even with Steve’s shaggy hair, scruffy face, and glasses, this man - no more than a boy really - knew exactly who the man was sitting at your side.

Abdullah threw a frown at him and barked a sharp reprimand in their local dialect which had the boy snapping straight and smoothing out his awe.

“Thank you, Abdullah,” you said by way of dismissal. “Omar, if you’d pour, please.”

Steve sent you a knowing look when he settled onto the seat at your side and brushed the sand from his feet. Abdullah lost his composure for a moment before quickly regaining it, nodding and hurrying way without another word, but it was Omar you focused on, the kid’s hands shaking now as he twisted the cage off of the champagne and made to remove the cork.

“You okay, son?” Steve asked, only to lunge forward and catch the bottle before it hit the sand and exploded everywhere. “Careful.”

“You’re… you’re… you’re…” was all the kid could get out as he stood shaking beside the chair.

“Yeah, I am. But I’m on vacation and would like to keep it that way,” Steve said softly, slowly handing back the bottle.

“There’s pictures. Online. The American news is full of rumours saying you got married,” the boy muttered, successfully opening the champagne the second time around even as he peered at you, his attention darting down to your hand.

You knew the minute he figured it out, his breath coming on short pants of excitement. “I’m a lucky girl,” you murmured.

“You… you’re really… married?” he asked, eyes wide and staring.

“Though we’d like to keep that to ourselves for a while,” Steve said.

Omar froze at the command in Steve’s voice. His Captain's voice was damn hard to ignore when he used it, and the boy was no better at denying it as anyone else.

“Of course, sir!” He nodded vigorously and poured the champagne. “It is an honour to serve an Avenger, especially the Captain America.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything, only snuggled deeper into Steve when he wrapped his arm around you.

“Two Avengers, actually,” he said, glaring at Omar.

“Forgive me!” the boy said as he held out your glass. “I’m… not familiar.” His attention drifted down to the cane at your side.

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s fine. You’ll know me eventually.”

Omar handed Steve the second glass. “Of course we will! The wife of Captain America will be big news!”

It went from annoying to amusing in a flat second, and you snorted a giggle into your glass. “Yup. It sure will.”

“Excuse me, but how is it a blind woman can be an Avenger?” he asked causing Steve to stiffen.

You patted Steve’s thigh. “Seeing’s overrated.”

The boy looked confused before smiling jovially and nodding. “I see. I shall be near if you need anything. Simply wave to me, and I will return.”

“Omar,” Steve said before the boy could walk away.

“Sir?”

“Not one word,” Steve commanded.

“Not one.” Omar nodded and hurried away.

“How long do you think he’ll last before he bursts and tells someone?” you asked, sipping the excellent wine. As it was courtesy of Tony, you shouldn’t be surprised.

“An hour, maybe two,” Steve muttered, placing his glass on the little side table within the seat along with yours. “Does it matter? We leave tomorrow night for home.” He set his chin on the top of your head and sighed. “I’ll miss this.”

“It has been nice, hasn’t it?”

“Wonderful.”

You closed your eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart, blending with the rolling sound of the ocean as music filled the night. Steve’s fingers lightly brushed up and down your arm before the opposite hand trailed gently up your throat to cup your jaw and tilt it back for his soft lips and warm embrace.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, knuckles caressing your cheek.

“Steve,” you sighed, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I mean it. I’ve watched you these last few days. You take my breath away. Even tonight, people were staring at my girl, admirin’ what’s mine, but they don’t know your secret.”

“What secret?” you asked.

“That you could kick their ass so damn easy. I love you soft and sweet, but watching you take down the Hulk, or knock that Valkyrie’s feet out from under her,” he hummed, and it was nearly a growl, “that was hot as fuck.”

A chuckle escaped your chest. “Hot as fuck, huh?”

“Yeah, baby.” He tugged your legs up into his lap and cuddled you close. “Seriously sexy.”

Using a fingertip to trace his lips, you giggled when he nipped your finger. “I feel the same watching you swing a sword, _sjelevenn_.”

“Guess we’re even then.”

You could feel the intensity of his gaze, his eyes locked on yours. “Partners are always even,” you whispered before ducking down to kiss him.

He moaned quietly when you swept your tongue over his lips and pressed between to flick yours against his. He sucked on it, gentle pulls, telling ones for they were the same teasing pulls he placed on your clit when he made love to you.

Already wetness gathered between your legs, and he inhaled deeply, knowing precisely what he was doing to you, likely able to smell it. You pulled away to breathe, pant really, well and truly turned on.

“Maybe we should just go home. I could show you what I’ve got on under this dress,” you offered.

He chuckled but shook his head. “In a bit. I want to dance with my wife under the stars.”

“Yeah?” you asked, smile teasing.

“And I think I saw creme brulee on the dessert menu.”

“You did not?” you gasped.

“I know there was cheesecake.”

“Steve stop!” You smacked his chest. “I will explode!”

“Nah, doll. We’ll just work those calories off… later.” He grinned wickedly and got to his feet with you still in his lap, letting you slide down his body as he collected your hands and brought you in to sway gently to the music.

The distant click had your attention snapping to Omar, phone out and pointed your direction. “Kid didn’t even make an hour,” you sighed.

“Does it matter?” Steve asked. “I’m perfectly happy letting the entire world know I’m yours. Taken. Off the market.”

You laughed at the last one. “Off the market, huh?”

“Totally rationed,” he rumbled, dipping his head to snag your lips in a searing kiss which caused more rapid clicks from the kid's phone.

“Let the hate mail begin,” you chuckled and threw your arms around his neck to kiss him breathless.

***

The night had gone gloriously. You'd danced and drank, and laughed. No one but Omar had recognized Steve and though you knew he'd taken the pictures, what did it matter? The news would break soon enough, and then you'd be gone to Asgard.

Your evening out had culminated with a walk down the beach, toes in the sand, warm water lapping around your ankles as you kissed beneath the moonlight. It had been so extraordinary. A night to remember.

You'd never be able to repay Tony for these last few days.

The boat had returned you to the island where you'd barely made it through the door before Steve was stripping your dress over your head and picking you up to take you through the house where he'd laid you on the bed and taken his sweet time seeing the both of you satisfied.

But, tired as you were, you’d grown restless. Steve had drifted off quickly enough, but for you, it felt as if a storm hovered on the horizon. The scent of ozone seemed to burn the air and danger had your nerve endings humming.

Unable to spend one more minute in bed, you slipped gently from it, not wanting to disturb Steve, and drew on his shirt, thrown haphazardly on the floor. It swamped you but smelled like him, and you brought the collar to your nose as you wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water.

The patio doors were open, allowing the night air to circulate and bring with it the sound of the ocean.

A jangle caught your attention — an out of place sound. Something scraped, something leather shifted, and you pulled the butcher knife from the block on the counter.

Inhaling deeply, you cautiously approached the doorway, the scent of warm hide and feathers, cloud and leather distinct as you walked outside to face the woman on the pegasus.

“Who are you and why are you here?” You demanded.

“Do you expect to defeat me in your bathrobe, (Y/N)?”

Command rang in the tone when she dismounted and dropped lightly to the ground. Armed and armoured, she pulled the large falcon like helm from her head, shook out her hair, and waited.

It took you less than a heartbeat to drop to a knee. “Lady Freyja.”

“Rise, Queen Sváfa. There is no need for that between us.” She waved you to your feet and placed her helmet on the lounge chair before stepping forward to embrace you. “It is good to meet you in person finally.”

“After all the meddling you’ve done?” you asked, a smirk twitching your lips.

“Exactly!” she laughed and cupped your face. “Such eyes,” she murmured, causing you to look down and away. “None of that. They are beautiful and unique, as you are. Be proud of your differences. They make you who you are.”

“Thank you, lady,” you said softly, cheeks heating.

“We have much to speak on and very little time. Your _sjelevenn_ will soon miss your presence and come searching.”

“Are you here to tell me you are returning to Asgard?”

She smiled sadly and shook her head. “You know I cannot.” Her steed nudged her shoulder, and she curled her hand around his nose. “I’m certain your _sjelevenn_ has told you all I told him.”

You moved away to look out at the ocean and clenched the railing tightly. “He did. I just… didn’t want to believe it.”

“Why?”

“Because… it’s too much,” you sighed and rubbed your forehead, finding a headache brewing behind your eyes.

“It’s not.”

“How can you be so sure? My path with Steve’s been broken. My throne stands contested. Hell! The very existence of the Valkyrjur hangs in the balance, but you _still_ won’t come home? You expect me to fix it somehow when I can’t… I can’t even pick up and read a menu anymore?”

“Sváfa,” she said, voice heavy with pity.

“Don’t! Don’t you pity me!” you snapped, turning to face her.

“I do not pity you. I envy you!” she barked. “You still have your _sjelevenn_. You still have love! I have lived hundreds of years without either! So forgive me if my mind is not on the Valkyrjur every single moment of the day!”

Shame filled you, knowing what it felt like to have a broken heart even if the breaking had been of another’s making. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean…”

She waved off your apology. “I know you didn’t. Fear makes us temperamental. A Valkyrie curse.” Freyja smiled as she moved up beside you to look out at the water. She sighed softly when you didn't smile back and lightly clasped your hand. “I would not trust you with something this important if I did not believe you able. You are the most gifted of my Valkyrie, far more capable of being the leader they need than you think. You were meant to be queen lifetime after lifetime. You were meant to be the point of the prism which helps hold Asgard together. Instead, you were locked out after your third life, cast from home like so much refuse. It angered me greatly, and when Frigga contacted me, when she began to fear something was wrong, I began to search as much for you as I did my _sjelevenn_.”

“Why?” you asked, still not understanding why it had to be you. “Why me?”

“Because,” she turned to face you and lightly touched your cheek. “You’re my daughter.”

You stiffened in shock. “What?”

“Figuratively,” she sighed. “I was never so blessed to have a child, but you, I have nurtured you and worked so terribly hard to bring you into existence. You are my daughter. My warrior daughter.”

A base seemed to pound to life in the air, new music you’d never heard before but you knew it. Soul deep, it resonated in a way that called to you, claimed you, seared through you. A memory of a time so far in the past it wasn’t yours, it wasn’t Tove’s, it wasn’t even her mother’s mother’s mother. It was an anthem from the first days of the Valkyrjur.

_you are a warrior_  
they call to me and strike at night  
clothe yourself with all the rough alikes  
and though I made you gentle for a time  
your spirit's strong enough to fight

_you are a warrior_  
strength and courage lies within your heart  
daughter, can't you see your power never fades  
for my armour keeps you safe

“There was a time once when a _sjelevenn_ soul needed the break, the rest between lives, the softness of the quiet moments to shore up the hardness of a Valkyrie existence. You’ve had a thousand years of rest. It is time to go home.” Freyja led you away from the railing toward Kriger, her steed.

_ride ahead; you fight for what is yours_  
so take your sword; protector of them all  
the heart may be a battle in its own  
don't hesitate; you'll never be alone

_you are a warrior_  
strength and courage lies within your heart  
daughter, can't you see your power never fades

“Take up your sword. Take up your shield. Take up your armour.” Freyja bent and lifted the helmet she’d set on the lounger and turned toward you with it. “Do not let the fear in your heart rule you. That is your first battle and the most important one to win.”

_you are a warrior_  
strength and courage lies within your heart  
you will not grow weary  
you will never cease  
  
you have been made warrior  
for your heart belongs to me  
for your heart belongs to me  
for your heart belongs to me

“You are my warrior daughter. You are the best of them — the fastest, brightest, strongest. Brave and powerful girl, I gift you my helm, so the people will know you are my choice. For some, that will be enough. The rest…” She shrugged.

You took the helmet with gentle hands, awed at the weight and the power. “I will have to prove myself.”

“You will have to fight to prove yourself. But you, my daughter. The trials you have been through, the men who walk at your back, they all make you so much stronger than those who seek to do you harm.” Freyja gently lifted your chin. “You must never cease. You must never waver in your determination to return your people to what they were. Trust your heart. Once it belonged to me, now…” She looked up, and you turned your attention to your stirring _sjelevenn_. “It belongs to someone much more worthy of it.”

“Lady Freyja.” You reached out to her when she pulled away. “You are still worthy.”

She smiled sadly. “Perhaps one day I can claim such again. For now… I will leave it in the capable hands of your Captain. I envy you all those muscles,” she chuckled softly as she embraced you. “Go swiftly, cautiously, and with your eyes open. Good hunting, _datter av min sjel_.”

Your heart lurched, and you hugged her tightly, a quiet sob muffled in her hair for it was so like holding Tove. “ _Min mor_.”

She set you away, cupped your face, wiped your tears and quickly mounted her pegasus. “Sváfa.”

“Freyja,” you nodded, the helm dangling from one hand.

The pegasus turned on his heels and launched himself from the deck with powerful legs, wings snapping open, hooves skimming the waves before a portal opened and they were gone.

“Baby?” Steve called sleepily. “What are you doing out here? What’s that?” he asked, suddenly much more awake.

“Freyja’s helmet. She gave it to me.”

His hands came down on your shoulders before wrapping around your chest when he noticed the tears on your face. “What’s that mean?”

You stared out at the water and listened to thunder roll in the distance. “It means… it’s time to go home.”

* * *

 

_* _datter av min sjel - daughter of my soul  
* min mor - mother of mine__


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swearing, angst, fluff
> 
> Song: For You by Liam Payne, Rita Ora

## Chapter Two

* * *

You woke the next morning to a soft breeze, the gentle sound of the ocean, and an empty bed but the quiet sound of the TV murmuring in the lounge informed you he hadn’t gone far. With a back cracking stretch, you slid out of bed still wearing Steve’s shirt and wandered sleepily into the other room.

“Steve?”

“Here,” he said quietly from the couch, muting the TV.

You walked over, leaned down, and kissed him when he tilted his face up before stealing the coffee cup from his hand. “What are you doing?” You’d avoided any sort of contact with the outside world for the past three days not wanting anything to spoil the illusion of privacy you’d relished upon arrival.

He sighed and tugged you around to sit on his lap. “I got a message from Buck.”

“What kind?” you asked warily.

“The kind that said find a news channel… now.”

He unmuted the television, and though you couldn’t see the image, the sound was more than enough to make you groan.

“In today’s top news, the rumour of Captain America’s surprise nuptials seems to have gained a little more validity. Images of America’s Golden Hero have popped up on Twitter and Instagram, showing our fair Captain in a passionate embrace with a little known SHIELD Agent.”

“That’s right, Tracy. On a private beach in the Maldives, it seems the Captain is enjoying some well-deserved downtime with his as of yet to be confirmed bride. A few days ago when asked to confirm or deny the rumours, Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross had this to say.”

“The Captain’s personal life isn’t exactly State business, but I assure you, if there were a wedding, I would know about it.”

You snorted, but didn’t speak, amused at how Ross had put his foot right in his mouth.

“It seems you’re out of the loop, Secretary,” the female news person chuckled.

“We also managed to catch the Captain’s former girlfriend, Agent Sharon Carter, formerly of SHIELD and now working for the CIA, to get her thoughts on the rumours.”

“I have no comment on the matter. True or false, I hope Steve’s happy.”

She didn’t sound happy to you. She sounded downright miserable.

“Hm, I don’t know, Bob. Can we say green with envy?”

The male news anchor chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t you be? Look at this man! I’m straight, but I’d leave my wife for him if he asked me to.”

Tracy laughed, and Steve blushed deeply, the heat radiating from him. “I’m sure Agent (Y/L/N) will be receiving some intense hate mail if the rumours pan out. Unfortunately, our intrepid Twitter poster never got a good shot to see if there were rings involved, and his only comment was _Captain America and friend dance the night away on the beach_.”

“Too bad. We could have had this cleared up in no time,” Bob sighed sadly.

“We’ve reached out to the Avengers for comment, as well as Director of SHIELD Operations Nick Fury, but so far we’ve yet to make contact.”

“Well, all I have to say is if Cap did tie the knot, best wishes, sir, and congratulations from all of us here at News One.”

Steve clicked the TV off and wrapped his arms around you when you sank deeper into his chest and continued to drink his coffee. “What do you want to do?”

“About?” you asked obtusely.

He huffed. “This!” He waved his hand at the TV.

You shrugged. “Let them speculate. Tony can hold a news conference when we get home.”

“That’s not going to be possible, dollface. There are five boats anchored about a mile out on the resort side of the house. According to Friday, all of them have long-range cameras pointed toward the beach.”

He must have gone out to the quinjet to have run the scans, but you only snuggled deeper. His chest was bare, just a pair of shorts covered him, and you ran your fingers lightly up the back of his neck.

“Steve. I’m not letting some intrepid photographers, who aren’t even looking the right direction, ruin the last day of our honeymoon. They think we’re staying at the resort. The pool is on the other side of the house, and there’s what? Two miles between us and them?” you asked, reaching out with your sense to find the small ships floating offshore.

“What about Abdullah?”

You shrugged. “There’s food in the kitchen. We can take care of meals, all very romantic and domesticated, and fly out tonight as planned.”

He slowly relaxed into the cushions on the sofa. “That’s… pretty clever.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” you snickered and winked, pushing from his lap. “C’mon, Cap. I’ll make you an omelet worth murdering for.”

“Murdering for?” he snorted. “Must be some omelet.”

He didn’t ask if you wanted help or question your ability to use the stove, just made his way to the phone and called Abdullah, letting him know you would be seeing to your own needs today.

Even across the room, you could hear the profuse apologizing the man was doing, evidently having figure out who Steve was finally, promising they were looking into who had posted the pictures and would deal with them harshly.

Steve told him not to bother which instantly had Abdullah gasping in surprise. “It’s not like they confirmed anything, just that we were on vacation. Long as no one lets it slip were not actually in the resort, I can let the other indiscretion go.”

Abdullah grovelled a little longer, until Steve cut him off with a curt, “It's fine,” and hung up.

You snorted out a giggle and poured the beaten eggs and mix of vegetables into the hot pan.

“Are you laughing at me, wife?” he asked coming up behind you to hold you by the hips.

“Maybe. You used _that_ voice. All commanding and strict.”

His fingers slowly began to inch the hem of his shirt up your thighs. “Yeah? Commanding and strict?”

“Mm, very much your Captain voice. It's wrong how sexy it is. I think you better,” you gasped when he brushed his stubble up the side of your neck, “stop using it in the bedroom.”

“Why would I do that, baby?” he hummed, sucking on your shoulder where his shirt fell open.

“Because, the next time you use it on a mission, you’re gonna make my knees weak.” Tilting your head back, you hummed when his mouth came down on yours.

“Can’t have that now,” Steve smirked, dragging his fingertips up to massage your bare ass gently.

“I’m going to burn the eggs, Steven,” you scolded but didn’t move away.

“No, you won’t. You can multitask. I have complete,” he kissed your shoulder, bit your pulse point, and shifted his hands so one went between your legs and the other pressed firmly into your abdomen, “faith in you.”

“That’s,” you moaned, “dirty pool, Rogers.”

He chuckled as he played with you. “Flip the omelet, woman.”

“Get your fingers out of my-” He took your breath and your words when he thrust them through your walls.

“Flip… the omelet,” he whispered in your ear.

The spatula in your hand groaned when you squeezed it too tight, but you somehow managed to flip the damn omelet. Once it was sizzling on the other side, Steve reached past you to grab a handful of shredded cheese and throw it on top, all while continuing to tease and torment you.

“Rogers… if you don’t....” you whimpered when he began to stroke and thrust and twisted his fingers.

“If I don't what, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, god… _fuck_!”

Moments away from coming, Steve pulled his hand away, turned you around, and lifted you to the counter. Bowls of chopped vegetables dumped out and spilled everywhere. The carton of eggs balanced precariously on the edge for a moment before he caught it and shoved it away. He clicked off the stove, pushed the pan away from the heat, and jerked you up to turn and drop you down a second time on the kitchen island, clean and free of food.

“Steve!” you moaned when his teeth latched onto your throat, and he sucked a hickey into your neck.

“Can’t wait. Eat later. Need you,” he growled and ripped his shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere.

The force gave you such a thrill; even if he had ruined your favourite shirt, you gasped in shock. His mouth dropped to your breasts, sucking and pulling, teeth scraping. It was like he’d become insatiable. Ravenous. A beast who would take what he wanted regardless of your opinion or protests.

Not that you were protesting.

You shoved frantically at his shorts until they fell to the floor, his urgency filling you, driving you to hurry, to not waste one more moment; to not spend one more second without him inside you.

“ _Sjelevenn_ ,” you whined when he dragged you forward by your knees and pressed deep, slowly stretching you open as you reached for him, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed him hard.

Tongues tangled as you panted together. Loved together. Lusted together. The harsh pounding of his hips set off sparks of pleasure and sent them singing through your body.

“Baby, not gonna last,” he groaned. “You feel too good.”

“So close, Stevie,” you whimpered. All you needed was a little more friction and released his neck to lean back on your hands and meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck!” he hissed. “Damn that’s pretty. Yeah, baby.” His hands skimmed up to your ass, gripped tight handfuls, and slammed you against him all the harder.

“ _Oh, fuck! Steven_!” you screamed when the fire rolled from your clenching womb, your climax breaking in a wave of heat which shot through your veins and saw your walls tightening around him.

“Shit! Fuck!” he bellowed as he jerked you hard into his pelvis and poured out his release in wave after wave of warmth.

You fell to your back, his destroyed shirt protecting your skin from the cold marble as you gasped and dragged in air to your starved lungs, waiting from your heart to stop pounding. Steve groaned and collapsed over you, his head resting on your breasts.

“Damn…” he sighed.

“Pretty spry for an old guy,” you teased, brushing your fingers through his hair.

He slapped the back of your thigh, still wrapped around his waist. “I’m not old.”

“You’re a _little_ old,” you chuckled. “That lack of stamina… I mean, come on.”

He stood up slowly to glare down at you sprawled out on the countertop. “Would you like me to show you stamina?”

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged. “Men your age have a hard time keeping-”

He dragged you from the counter and up into his arms. “That does it, mouthy girl. You’re in for it now.” He tossed you over his shoulder and stomped naked and with something to prove toward the bedroom.

You gave his bare ass a gentle pat and fought down a smirk. “Guess breakfast is going to have to wait?”

“I’ll make you lunch,” he growled and sent you flying through the air to land with an oof on the bed.

“If you last that long,” you quipped, unable to stop your sassy mouth.

His big hand closed over it in warning. “Stop talking, darlin’. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

“Promises, promises, Captain,” you teased when he released you.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea,” he growled.

Hours later when you were a sweaty, dishevelled mess, unable to move and exhausted as he bounced from the bed to make lunch, you realized he was right.

You'd had no idea.

***

Back in the pool for her final soak in the late afternoon sun, (Y/N) was again leaning against the infinity edge taking in the unseen view when Steve arrived to slip into the water behind her. For once he was wearing trunks. Even though the boats floating offshore of the resort had paid their little island no mind, he wasn’t taking any chances of getting caught in the nude for everyone and their dog to see.

He made his way toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist, loving the feel of her warm wet skin against his. “How you doin’, dollface?”

She turned her head to rest her cheek on her hands. “Sore but in a good way.”

“You’ve only got yourself to blame, getting me all riled up like that,” he snickered, feeling only slightly guilty. “Stark’s gonna need to disinfect this entire place.”

“I think we’ve used every flat surface this place has to offer, and a few not so flat ones,” she snickered.

“You complaining?”

“Absolutely not,” she grinned.

He kissed her cheek, and they floated in silence for a while, enjoying the sun and the sound of the water beneath the house.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Steve said quietly, feeling the stillness of nature and not wanting to disturb the peace. “Vacations were for rich people when I was a kid. Then I was in the army, then Cap, then frozen, then back seventy years later and right back into the army.”

“Steve, you’re entitled to a vacation once in a while. You can run off to the beach as long as you run off with me.”

She smiled and made him chuckle. “It seems like every time I think about taking some downtime, something goes to hell, and I’m right back in the thick of everything.”

“But it’s not like it used to be. You have a team now; more than one in fact. Taking a week off to drink beer on the beach is not going to mean the world will come to an end. You and Bucky are coming with me to Asgard. Do you think everything will go to hell while we’re gone?”

“Well… no.” He hadn’t thought about it because he knew he couldn’t let her go alone. She was his, and she needed him. He wasn’t letting her go on her own, and Bucky always watched his back. It would have been weird if Buck hadn’t insisted on going.

“Do you think it all fell apart in the last four days?”

“Not if the biggest news is we may have gotten hitched,” he chuckled softly.

“Exactly! So make me a promise.”

He frowned as she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What promise? Steve asked, a little suspicious.

“Once a year we disappear for a week. Spontaneous and sporadic. We pick a place, and we go. Take time to reconnect just the two of us without the pressure of being Queen or being Cap sitting on our shoulders.”

“And if something goes for shit while we’re gone?”

“We have one device — one way for people to get ahold of us. If it’s life or death, we can go back. Otherwise, they suck it up and deal for the seven days we’re gone.”

He stroked her wet hair back from her face. “You’re pretty smart,” he smirked.

“I just like my downtime,” she laughed. “But seriously, Steve. You’re a person first. Just because Ross and people like him think you’re some kind of State property doesn’t mean it’s true. You do a job. A job that _shouldn’t_ feel like a life sentence. If you walked away tomorrow, you know I’d support you.”

He shook his head and pulled her closer. “You’re pretty damn great. You know that right?”

“What can I say but I’m awesome,” she snickered.

Steve chuckled and rested his forehead on hers. “I like what I do. I feel I have a responsibility to use the gifts I’ve been given, but you’re right. I’m not just Captain America. Not anymore.” He had her and responsibilities outside the Avengers to think about now.

Thor had spoken a little about what it meant to be King of Sváfaland and a lord in his court. It was a big responsibility, but fortunately, his lands were currently empty, the keep was in ruins, and he didn’t have people beholden to him as their lord. All of which he was damn thankful for because who the hell was he to tell people how to live? He saved people; he didn’t rule them.

He didn’t want to rule anyone.

Thor, of course, knew this and understood him completely, stating should people return to Sváfaland, he was more than capable of looking after them and their needs until such a time Steve decided he did want the responsibility or one of his and Y/N’s children chose to assume the title.

He hadn’t asked Thor, knowing it was a question he needed (Y/N) to answer, and shook himself free of his musings only to find her frowning at him. Apparently, she’d asked him a question he’d missed. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you… alright?”

“Yeah,” he assured her a little too quickly, making her frown.

“Steve, I know you. What’s on your mind?”

He sighed softly. “Did we ever… have kids?”

She blinked up at him, appearing a little confused. “We’ve had lots of kids in lots of lives.”

“No, I mean… as us. When you were a Valkyrie.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh!”

“Is that a good… oh?”

Her arms slowly slipped from around his neck to press her hands to his chest. “Steve…”

“Just tell me.”

Pain washed across her features. “No… no, we never had a… a living child.”

She tried to push away, but he clutched her all the closer. “What… what’s that mean?” he whispered, terrified of the answer.

“A miscarriage… our first life…”

“Oh, baby…” He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “It’s okay. These things happen.”

The first tears trickled over to fall on his shoulder. “It was my fault.”

“I’m sure it was no one's fault.”

She shoved him away and climbed out of the pool. “It was _my_ fault! I went into battle at your side after you begged me not to and got cocky. I took a shield to my stomach, and I lost our baby, Steven!”

He heaved himself out of the pool and grabbed her by the arm. “And then what? Did he blame you? Did Helgi blame you for it? Berate you? Shame you?”

“No, of course not!”

Steve dragged her body against him and grabbed a fistful of hair to force her to look at him. “Then why would you think I would? Do you think I don’t know you by now to know you’d fight tooth and nail to stand at his side? When you’re doing the same thing now? Blind and still fighting to follow me into battle?”

“I blame me,” she sighed.

Of course, she did, that was so like her. “Why did you go? What was the point?”

She wiped viciously at her face. “It should have been easy. A group of bandits had been robbing people along the border of your lands. It should have been a simple job to round them up, but there were more of them than we thought and one got in a lucky shot. That was all it took.”

More tears fell down her face, and Steve felt his water in kind. He bent and kissed her gently, lovingly, then he led her over to the two-person lounger, settled into it, and took a moment to grieve what could have been.

“What happened afterward?” he asked quietly once her tears slowed.

She sighed and traced pictures on his chest with her nails. “You asked me to marry you.”

“We were doing things backward, huh?” he chuckled softly.

“It’s different on Asgard. They don’t have the same reservations on sex humans do. Back then, men and women would often participate in a physical relationship to see if it would… bear fruit before they committed to marriage.”

“I see.” Evidently, he and Buck had a few things to learn about Asgard.

“It was only months later that we…” She didn't need to say died.

“Not this time,” he stated firmly. “This time we're gonna kick a little ass.”

“Only a little?” she asked, a smile curling her lips.

“Or a lot. Won't know till we get there,” he lightly skimmed his fingers up and down her arm.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Would you… want to?”

He knew exactly what she was asking. “Yeah. I've already said as much. But I'm going to be a lot stricter with you than I was in the past.”

She rolled her eyes. “Steve.”

He rolled her beneath him on the lounger and trapped her wrists above her head in his tight grip. “No fighting me on this, (Y/N)! Shields and swords are one thing, but we're talking _bullets_!” The very idea of knowing she carried his child and he'd agreed to put her in harm's way made him feel sick. “I'd never forgive myself if something happened to the two of you.”

She sighed but nodded. “I get it, Steve. Things are different than they were.”

“Exactly.”

“Not something we have to worry about anytime soon. My shot doesn't run out for another four months.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers, loving the feel of her soft body beneath his and the sun beating down on his back. “Never hurts to practice.”

“You've practiced a lot lately,” she teased, freeing her wrists and flipping him easily to his back. “Maybe I should practice on you?”

He made to respond, but her head whipped up, piercing eyes glaring at the side of the house. “What is it?”

She held up her hand and continued to listen intently. “Shit! Someone spilled the beans.” She jumped to her feet and pulled him up after her. “Boats are on the move, and they're headed this way fast!”

He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her in, pressing a searing kiss to her mouth. “Was nearly time to go, anyway.”

“We could ruin their fun and take off just as they get here,” she smirked.

Steve belted out a laugh and grabbed her hand to run inside the house. “You're cruel!”

“Just vindictive. They've cut my honeymoon short.” Her smile was devious, wide, and too much like Loki’s. “Besides, I can continue what I started in the jet. There's still a nice pile of fur to enjoy.”

He shook his head and laughed, but dragged the bags out from the closet and threw them on the bed. They worked together to throw what little clothing they had into them, Steve stripping out of his wet trunks and earning himself a catcall from his wife in the process. He returned the favour and wolf whistled when she stripped out of hers.

He grabbed up their bags, her hand, dragged her in and kissed her hard and fast, his heart pounding in excitement. “I love you, wife,” he said, lifting his head to grin down at her.

She lightly caressed his face. “I love you, husband.”

He took a final look around at their hidden getaway, her helm from Freyja already stored in the jet, as they made their way toward the front of the house. “You think Tony will let us borrow this place again?”

“If he knows what’s good for him!” (Y/N) laughed.

Together, they raced out the door toward the lowering ramp of the quinjet and inside right as the first boat came into view. Steve punched the button to close them inside and moved quickly toward the controls to start their preflight and set the autopilot.

By the time the boats pulled up at the dock, the jet was lifting into the air, and another boat, this one from the resort was racing toward the island. He could see Abdullah and a handful of security on board and left them to it.

Aloft and on their way home, Steve put the jet in stealth mode and turned to face (Y/N) standing with one arm raised, gripping the handrail to keep herself stable while the plane levelled off. “Now, where were we?”

She smiled at him, her face aglow and darkened from the sun. She reached across herself and pushed the spaghetti strap of her dress from her shoulder, switched hands and pushed the strap from the other shoulder. The light, airy fabric fluttered as it fell around her ankles, causing Steve’s breath to catch.

“Damn… as pretty as the first time,” he whispered, rising to go to her. He cupped her face and just took her in, letting himself memorize every curve of her bone structure, slope of muscle, and dip into shadow. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Steve,” she whispered, red-cheeked and flushed with pleasure.

“I would do anything for you. Absolutely anything.” He lightly brushed his mouth over hers.

Her fingers lightly traced the tattoo on his neck and made him shiver. Steve wasn’t sure the mark was meant to be so sensitive, but for him, it was like fire in his veins every time she touched it.

“Take me to bed, _sjelevenn_. Love me until we get home,” she said softly, pressing her body to his.

“Anything for you, _min vakre skjoldpike_ ,” he crooned. “Anything.”

Sweeping her off her feet, Steve took her to the furs and did just that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff, language  
> Song: Eyes On You by Chase Rice

## Chapter Three

* * *

It was odd flying home only to arrive an hour before you’d left the Maldives, time zones and flight times on a quinjet were weird like that, but you were met by a couple of smiling faces when the plane landed.

“Didn’t expect you two back until later or even tomorrow for that fact,” Tony said as he hugged you.

“Technically for us it is tomorrow,” you laughed. “Even on a quinjet that was a long ass flight.”

“Could have been worse. You could have flown commercial,” Natasha quipped, holding out her arms next.

“Bite your tongue!” you huffed, stepping into her hug. “All’s quiet on the western front?”

“We’re in the Eastern United States remember. Or did all that sun go straight to your head?” she teased.

“Ah, but we came from the east so technically…” you let the sentence hang.

“This is going to be a thing with you isn’t it?” Nat muttered.

“Maybe!” you giggled.

“So what, Rogers? You run out of steam keeping up with the dancing queen?” Tony asked.

You rolled your eyes. “And just how long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Thought it up at the wedding. Decided to hold on to it for a while,” Tony smirked.

Steve chuckled only to shrug when you glared at him. “It is kind of funny.”

“Thanks, Cap!” Tony beamed.

“But no, I didn’t run out of stamina. We were about to be invaded by reporters and decided to check out before that could happen,” Steve explained.

Tony stiffened, anger tightening his jaw. “They got on my island?”

“They were stepping off the boats as we left,” you said frowning at him.

He huffed an irate sound. “Well, welcome home, lovebirds. I have to make a phone call.”

“Tony!” Steve called before the man could walk away. “You see the interview with Ross?”

Tony’s smile returned. “Why yes I did, Cap. Yes, I did.”

“And?” you asked. “What are we doing about it?”

He sauntered back over and booped the end of your nose. “That depends, firecracker, on what you two newlyweds would like to do about it. Though, I do know a very nice reporter I can call who would love to interview Cap and his new bride if I were to tell her she could have first dibs. Maybe give a short introduction to the Valkyrie Queen of Asgard?”

“Least then you’d stop being 'The little-known SHIELD Agent',” Natasha chuckled.

“Ugh, stop,” you whined at her then looked at Steve.

He shrugged. “Up to you.”

On a soft sigh, you turned back to Tony. “Fine, but no weird or invasive questions like what our favourite position is or where the wildest place we ever had sex was.”

“That answer better not be my pool,” Tony grumbled.

You reached out and patted his scruffy cheek. “Tony, babe. You may want to have that whole place sanitized,” you snickered, gave him a wink, and walked off to go find Hemme.

When Steve made to join you, Natasha gave him a hard jab in the ribs. “You’ve monopolized her for a week! Gimme!”

“She’s not a prize to be won, Natasha,” Steve grunted. “And if she were I’d have already claimed her.”

“Bite me, Rogers!” she sniffed and linked her arm through yours. “It’s time for girl talk.”

You laughed softly and smiled apologetically over your shoulder at Steve. “So, girl. Talk.”

Natasha waited only long enough for you to be out of one nosy super soldier’s earshot before snickering, “Not me, you! I need all the details!”

“I’m not giving you smutty details of my honeymoon,” you snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, yes you vill. I have vays for making you talk, voman!” she said in the worst Russian accent you’d ever heard.

“Stop! No, it’s too horrible for words!” you cried mockingly.

“Bitch,” she grumbled.

“Ho,” you shot back.

“See? I’ve missed this,” Natasha snickered. “How about just did you have fun?”

“It was amazing,” you sighed. “I miss it already.” Then you smirked a wicked little grin. “I could tell you about Steve’s sunburn…”

***

Steve watched his wife - a word he was still getting used to - walk off with Natasha into the darkened woods before turning back to Tony. “Did you get it?”

“It’s in your room,” Tony smirked.

“And?”

“It came out great. She’ll love it.” Tony headed for the compound. “Was a pretty smart idea, Cap.”

“I may not be a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, but I have a good idea now and then,” Steve said, tapping his fist on Tony’s shoulder, his opposite hand packing their duffles.

“It’s been nuts around here since the news caught wind of what may have happened, but everyone has been great about keeping the wedding under wraps. No leaked pictures, no emails, nothing. Then those pics crop up online, and you’d think the Chitauri were invading again. Nearly overloaded the phone lines. I finally had Friday run interference. Anyone associated with a news agency got redirected to an automated message.”

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “This is gonna be an absolute shit storm, isn't it?”

Tony shrugged. “It's going to be something. I have an idea how to spin it.”

“You?”

“Well… Pep had an idea.”

“I figured as much,” Steve snickered.

“Hey!” Tony pouted. “It could have been mine.”

Steve only chuckled harder. “Uh huh. What is it?”

“We need to introduce her as the Valkyrie Queen,” Pepper said as she appeared in the corridor. “Steven.” She reached up to hug him and patted his cheek. “Look at you all tanned and relaxed. The honeymoon was good?”

He blushed a little but nodded. “Too short but good.”

“Ah, now, you can’t keep little miss feisty all to yourself,” Tony teased.

“Sure I can,” Steve smirked. “She’s my wife.”

“She’s going to be our newest Avenger, and when we throw in the star-crossed lover's angle, the people will adore her,” Pepper smiled.

“You’d best run that by her, Pepper. You know how Y/N is about her privacy,” Steve warned.

She waved a dismissive hand. “I discussed it with Thor and Loki. Y/N is going to be known as a Valkyrie at the least, but if she were introduced as Queen of them, and this story of your souls finding one another life after life comes out, oh Captain. Your fans will eat that up. Then, if we can get her on camera in her armour with the helmet and Hemme? People will lose their minds. She’ll be the next biggest thing since sliced bread!”

Pepper looked both gleeful and calculating, causing Steve to frown and eye her warily. “What are you up to?”

“Hm?” She smiled deviously. “Absolutely nothing.”

Steve didn’t believe her for a hot minute. “Come on, Pepper. Out with it.”

She gave a long-suffering sigh and turned to face the windows. “It’s rare we get a woman of her calibre as a superhero. We’ve had Asgardian men, super soldiers, billionaires, androids, wizards, and Spider-man. All of you are amazing role models, and so many people look up to you, but you’re all men. We have women, but Natasha was painted red in the news when SHIELD fell, and while Wanda is a sweet, wonderful woman, so many people feared her for so long she's better off avoiding attention. Hope stays out of the limelight, and the others aren’t yet well enough known to have made an impression on the public. Shuri is making a difference in STEM empowerment for women. Nakia too, in her role with T'Challa, brings hope. But if we can say here, here is a woman who is a leader of women, a role model for girls of all ages to look to and aspire to become, that’s saying something. There is no discrimination in the Valkyrjur, did you notice that? When I looked at those videos, every race and colour is represented in her ranks.”

“You do realize they are all Asgardian, not human, right?” Steve murmured.

“I know that, and you know that but what’s to keep young women from aspiring to be a Valkyrie? Or to pursue their dreams with the passion and fire of one? Nothing! Having someone like Y/N be that bright star to shoot for will do a world of good.”

“Pepper, you’re putting an awful lot of pressure on her,” Steve said.

Again she waved her hand. “I'm not." She stopped him with a look before he could protest. "Do you know the extent of the lives you change? The hopes and dreams you establish just by being you, Captain?”

“Well, no,” Steve mumbled.

“It’s likely she won’t either. She doesn’t have to do anything, Steve. She just needs to be. She needs to be seen, both at your side and on her own. That’s it.”

“I don’t know, Pep. There’s so much pressure on her already. Freyja stopped to see her while we were away.”

Both Tony and Pepper stared at him in disbelief. “Why?” Pepper finally managed to ask.

“To tell her for herself Freyja wouldn’t be returning to Asgard, wouldn’t come back as Queen, and Y/N was on her own.” It still irked him. It felt too much like a copout on the Asgardian woman's part to him. “Freyja created her. Y/N’s the daughter she never had and was meant to rule the Valkyrie for hundreds of lifetimes, not just three.”

“Shit,” Tony whistled. “No pressure there.”

Steve shrugged. “She took it in stride like she usually does.” But that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell it weighed on her. She’d slept in fits and starts these last two nights, and seemed to dream more often when she did. It was worrisome, but whenever he asked her about the dreams she was having, she would frown and shake her head, unable to remember.

“I’ll talk to her,” Pepper said. “Make sure she’s up for everything.”

“Good.” For once, Steve would leave it to someone else. “If all else fails and they want to see what she can do, you could give them a clip of her playing with the Hulk. That should impress the pants off most people.”

“Not a bad idea, Rogers,” Tony murmured. “Pep, going to give Patty a call. She’ll appreciate the scoop.”

“Ooh, good idea!” Pepper agreed. “She did that great exposé on you when you-”

Steve stopped listening and wandered away from the two of them. He’d let them handle media relations. They were better at it and had more practice then he did. Steve didn’t mind talking to the press as long as it was short, fast, and to the point. He didn’t think this interview would be short or fast, but it would get the job done, and then they could get out of here.

He highly doubted the Valkyrjur would wait much longer. Though, Y/N was Queen. It’s not like they could force her home. He didn’t think so, anyway.

Striding down the long hall, he wasn’t surprised when Bucky stepped out of the shadows and wandered along beside him.

“Looks like you had fun,” he chuckled softly.

“That I did,” Steve smirked.

“Surprised you can still walk. Figured your girl would have worn you out after four days alone,” Bucky teased.

“Damn near, pal,” he grinned wickedly at Bucky.

“Now you’re just bragging, punk.”

Steve sidestepped the punch Bucky threw his way. “Hey, you asked.”

Bucky snickered and nudged Steve’s elbow with his. “Married looks good on you, Steve.”

“Feels good too,” Steve agreed and opened the door to his shared suite of rooms with a sigh. “You know, even if it’s a little weird, this is still home.” And he liked coming home. There were little pieces of him and little pieces of Y/N all over it now.

Their swords hung on the wall, someone had thought to get them off the floor while they were gone. His shield hung beneath them. A couple of his paintings dotted the walls, while two of Y/N’s framed movie posters hung on others. The shelves around the TV held a host of books and music, as well as an old signed baseball which had been sent to Steve by the Smithsonian from the collection of his things they’d housed and maintained over the years.

Another shelf contained a small glass bird Y/N’s mother had given her for her twelfth birthday. A precious piece of her past she carried with her wherever she went.

But sitting in the center of the coffee table was what he’d asked Tony to have made.

“Damn… that’s incredible,” he murmured, dropping the duffles he’d carried to the floor before crouching down to have a closer look.

“She’s gonna cry,” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah, I know she is,” Steve agreed.

“Cry over what?” Y/N asked, striding through the door with Natasha, her new helmet in hand.

“There’s the bride! I thought he’d gone and left you on the island,” Bucky teased as he wrapped her up in a hug and lifted her off the ground.

“Put me down you big oaf!” she laughed and hugged back. When he did, she bopped him one in the chest with her fist. “Now, what am I crying at?”

“At these.” Steve stood and held out his hand.

She frowned as she took it and got closer to the table. “Steve… what… what are they?”

He picked one up and held it out to her, stealing the helmet from her fingers to toss to the couch. “I know you can’t see our wedding photos, so I asked Tony to have three-dimensional models created. They’re made out of titanium so they’ll be virtually indestructible.”

“Oh, oh, Steven…” she whispered, eyes wide and filled with tears as she ran her fingers over the statue of the two of them in their Asgardian garb. “It’s perfect! Every detail is here!”

“There’s two. Here.” He took the first away and handed her the second one of them from later in the night.

“Oh!” The tears won out. “The lace from my dress is so detailed! I can see it so well! Oh, Steve!” She set the statue down to throw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you thought to do this!”

“I wanted you to be able to see what I can every time the pictures are brought up,” he said while stroking the tears from her cheeks. “You were so beautiful, baby. You still are.”

“Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Nat huffed. “That’s our cue to leave,” she said to Bucky.

“You’d think four days of fucking like rabbits would have gotten some of that out of their system,” Bucky snickered.

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Y/N growled.

“Nope! Fuck Rogers. That’s what he’s for!” Bucky laughed as he headed out the door and shut it with a slam behind him.

“They're going to be impossible,” she huffed.

“But not wrong,” Steve grinned. “After all, that is what I’m for.”

She laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, after such a lovely homecoming surprise how could I possibly say no?”

He caught her by the thighs as he kissed her. “How’s Hemme?” Steve asked even as he headed for the bedroom.

“Pouting and perfect. He’s being petulant after leaving him behind, but he’ll get over it. Less talk, more naked, Rogers,” she muttered, kissing his neck.

Steve grinned and gave the bedroom door a kick with his foot. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

Patty Engles was a woman of middle age with close-cropped curls, smile lines, and perfect white teeth. She wore jeans and a suit coat over a crisp white shirt, with knee-high boots and a chunky necklace you thought fit her bubbly personality rather well. The fact she’d dressed casually for this interview had put you more at ease, seeing as how it would be the one that outed you to the world, both as a Queen and Steve’s wife.

Pepper had come to you first thing to lay it all out. The idea behind it all was rather brilliant, but then it was Pepper. You liked the star-crossed lover's angle. It gave a sense of destiny to how you’d ended up with Steve so swiftly. You’d talked a little about how sjelevenn bonds worked, the magic and mystery behind them, and how you’d been born human but returned to Valkyrie by an incident which remained classified.

Patty had looked at you skeptically for a moment, but no one except Steve could hold your pale-eyed stare for long, so she’d moved on.

You were taking her and her cameraman to see Hemme, walking through the gentle morning dawn. With the sun just rising, you knew there would be long shadows and frost and breathed in the crisp air before letting out a long whistle.

Close to the barn, it was more a warning than a request for him to come to you, but it had a whiny breaking the fall morning’s stillness as the big black trotted out of the barn, head high and ears pricked, to shake his wings and stretch them out.

“Holy shit,” whispered the man with the camera Patty had introduced as Stan.

“He’s rather impressive,” you chuckled.

“Big!” Patty squeaked.

They stopped to watch as you continued forward to lay your hand on Hemme’s face. “He’s young still, though technically of an age to be a Valkyrie mount. I think he’s got at least another hand of growing in him. It’s likely he’ll gain another four or so inches in height.”

“I thought all pegasi were white or grey,” Patty said, moving a little closer while Stan shifted to get a better shot.

“They are except for the Queen's mount. Mine have always been black. My mother's was black. All the way back to the time of Freyja.”

“The Goddess Freyja? Like Thor?”

“Yes. She created the Valkyrjur to be Odin’s fiercest warriors. We are the best, most elite fighting force ever known.” You smiled as you patted your attention seeking stallion’s neck. He’d missed you a lot, demanding a grooming when you’d visited with Natasha the night before, and was looking for another as he nibbled your hair and whickered pleadingly. “Stop it you big suck,” you teased.

“He seems very affectionate.”

“He’s begging for a grooming,” you chuckled when he nuzzled your cheek and flirted a nicker in your ear.

“Really?” Patty asked.

“They speak in their own way. We learn to understand them as neophytes. Then when we are initiated and become maidens and receive our pegasus, we are well versed in their speech.”

You turned and walked into the barn even as she called out, “Neophytes? Maidens?”

Returning with a brush and cloth in one hand and the oil for his wings in the other, you began a thorough grooming of his somewhat dusty wings. “Neophytes are what we call those who wish to become a Valkyrie. They serve the Valkyrjur, those of us who are already riders in wings, with the day to day chores. They see to the stables and the pegasi, and learn all they can of being Valkyrie.”

“And maidens?” Patty asked, moving a little closer.

“Are Valkyries who have not yet retrieved a soul for Valhalla,” you said, rubbing the cloth over Hemme’s outstretched wing. “You can come closer. He won’t bite. He may expect you to pet him though. He’s a bit of a suck,” you assured her with a smile.

She did so cautiously, her hand outstretched. “I’ve always loved horses.”

“He’s not a horse. Pegasi are their own breed of equine. They are intelligent and rational, live far longer, and have their own societal structure that has little to do with Asgardian interaction or intervention. We get them for their prime years, and then they return to the herd to breed the next generation.”

“Fascinating,” Patty whispered, stroking Hemme’s nose.

“They are an intriguing species, certainly,” you agreed.

“So what are you doing?”

She sounded genuinely interested and caused you to smile. “Just like birds, they need their feathers oiled to keep them supple. In their valley, there are plants for them to eat as well as trees for them to rub against to help with this. They don’t produce the same kind of oils in the quantities birds do, so when they come to us and become our partners its one of the tasks we take on for them.”

“And do you do this daily? Weekly?”

“Weekly, usually unless we're in hard battle. Then we tend to do it twice a week on rotation. Supple wings help even the biggest mount stay aloft.” Hemme snorted and rolled his eye back to glare at you. “No, I did not just call you fat,” you huffed at him.

Patty giggled but pinched her lips together when Hemme swung his head to look at her. “Could I try?” she asked, stepping further from Hemme’s face and closer to his wing.

You didn’t bother to explain she’d put herself in worse danger, considering his wing could cause even more damage if he wished to hurt her. He didn’t. Hemme was used to the snickering which came from the two of you conversing now. But he’d also learned to give a good glare to those who laughed.

“Sure.” You held out the cloth. “Just go with the growth, not against.”

“So how does one go about becoming a Valkyrie?” Patty asked, sliding the cloth and oil over Hemme’s feathers.

You smiled as you rested against Hemme’s flank. “Being born of Asgard is kind of a necessity, unfortunately.”

“Rats. There goes my dream,” Patty laughed softly, but there was a touch of wistfulness in her tone. “Can you tell me about Valhalla instead? Do the Valkyrie still collect worthy souls from Earth?”

“We did once. I’m not sure about now. It’s not as if people worship Odin or Thor as gods anymore. It takes exceptional people to be worthy of it as it is.”

“Like the Avengers?”

You smiled at the sneaky way she threw that in there. “If they wished it.”

“Is it true you would turn the tide of a battle to glean the soul you wanted?”

“Not when I was Queen,” you stated firmly.

“Why not?”

“It was an honour to die in battle. Killing someone to glean their soul is dishonourable as far as I am concerned. If they lived on to fight longer, do more, become better, who was I or any of my warriors for that matter, to take that from them.”

“Not when I was Queen. Does that mean it did happen?”

“If it did, it was not during the reign of myself or my mother. I cannot speak to the reigns of other Queens before Tove or me.” As she’d oiled the same feather four times, you took the rag back and returned everything to the barn. “That’s enough for now. I’ll finish the rest later.”

“And here’s the Captain, right on time,” Patty said.

Her enthusiasm went up threefold, and as you were out of camera range, you rolled your eyes at the appreciation in her voice.

After wiping your hands clean of the oil, you reached up and lightly touched the locket around your throat. You’d left your rings off for the first part of this interview. A way for the world to learn about who and what you were before also learning you were Steve’s wife.

“Miss Engles,” Steve nodded.

“Patty, please, Captain,” she cooed.

He didn’t reply, just walked into the barn. “How’d it go?” he whispered.

You shrugged. “Good as can be expected.”

“Good. You ready for this?” Steve asked as he pressed your rings into your palm.

You slipped them on your finger. “Yeah. Her fawning is annoying.”

He snickered and took your hand to lead you back outside. “I’m afraid you’ve been brought here under false pretenses, Miss Engles,” Steve said, drawing you to a halt.

The sun was warm on your face, his hand in yours warmer still, but it was his gaze you felt the most when he smiled down at you.

“Oh, really, Captain? What more could there be besides the unveiling of this newest Avenger and your new lady?”

“She’s not just my girl,” he said, lifting your left hand to his lips. “She’s also my wife.”

You couldn’t help but beam when he said it, the word making you ridiculously happy.

“Cut!” Patty cried before turning on her cameraman. “You owe me twenty bucks!”

She was nearly gleeful, and it made you snicker.

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just when Tony said he had a big story for me Stan here figured it was to announce you weren’t married. I, of course, knew better.” Patty gave a happy little wiggle.

“Why don’t we move this inside?” Steve smiled. “I’m sure this would be easier to do in a more comfortable setting.”

“Coffee would also be good,” Stan grumbled. “I’m freezing my bits off.”

“We don’t notice it anymore,” you said. “Though I guess it is a little chilly.”

“Well, after the Maldives, yeah,” Steve laughed.

“Hence the reason you’ve got clothes on again,” you teased just to watch him blush.

“Please tell me there are pictures from the honeymoon?” Patty pleaded.

“Fraid not.”

You smirked at Steve's denial. “That’s what he thinks.”

“Y/N!” he gasped. “You said you deleted those?”

“How could I?” you laughed and tapped your temple.

“You’re terrible,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss you.

“Just the way you like me,” you smirked, leading the way back to the compound.

“Please tell me you caught that?” Patty whispered to Stan.

He shook his head. “You said cut. I cut.”

She groaned, and you grinned up at Steve. That was the only reason you’d said it.

“There’s not really pictures, are there?” Steve whispered.

“Of course not,” you smirked wickedly. “Why would I take pictures I can never see?”

“Somedays I see were Loki gets it from,” Steve chuckled and led the way inside.

“He learned from the master,” you quipped, walking through the door, ready to break the hearts of many a woman, and likely a few men.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, mild violence  
> Song: Poetry by Wrabel

## Chapter Four

* * *

Everyone had gathered in the theatre room for the airing of your interview. It had only been filmed that morning, but Patty had assured you it would air that night in its own special news hour. Hell, they’d bump a Presidential Address to bring this story to air. When Steve had gasped, she’d laughed and said they wouldn’t have to, but the news would be taking a backseat for sure.

Sat on Steve’s lap, you shared the small couch with Bucky, while Sam leaned against the arm. Everyone who could comfortably crowd in had, sending last minute stragglers rushing to find a computer monitor, or television elsewhere.

The jingle for the station began to play, and Tony was quick to shush everyone when the news team started speaking.

“Tonight, we bring you the story the nation, no the entire world has been waiting for. In an exclusive interview, our intrepid reporter Patty Engles has sat down with the woman everyone has been talking about.”

“That’s right, Jan. Agent (Y/L/N), the woman in those hot Captain America photos from the Maldives, was kind enough to sit down with or Avengers correspondent Patty Engles. Not only is Miss (Y/N) an Agent with the reformed SHIELD program and a member of the Avengers team, but Patty is telling us, she is also their newest Avenger. Do we hear this right, Patty? (Y/N) is actually… a Valkyrie?”

“That’s right, Brian!” Patty’s cheery voice rang out. “But not just any Valkyrie. Take a look.”

From there, you listened to yourself talk, hoping you didn’t sound as stupid as listening to yourself talk felt. When Steve gave your body a gentle squeeze, you knew he was proud of you, and you relaxed a little.

Steve became your descriptive video when they overlaid images of you playing with the Hulk, or others of you training with Heimdall, letting you know what everyone else was seeing.

There was a beat of silence after your statement of, “I'm not just any Valkyrie. I'm Sváfa, reborn daughter of Tove, leader of the Elite Wings, and Queen of the Valkyrjur.”

Steve murmured, “You should see the news anchors faces. They look stunned!”

Bucky snickered to your left. “What do you expect? Watchin’ her trip up the Hulk’s pretty impressive. Throw in all them titles and _bam_! Kill shot!”

“Well… damn!” Brian muttered.

“My thoughts exactly, Brian!” Patty laughed. “She was even more impressive in person. Such a strong, confident air about her. So much so, you’d never know she was blind.”

“Blind!” Jan gasped.

“Mm,” Patty hummed. “The same classified mission which saw her returned to her Valkyrie nature also resulted in the permanent loss of her sight. Here is what her Majesty had to say about that.”

“I had a mentor after the news of this being permanent came to light. He helped me learn to see without my eyes. Through touch, taste, scent, and hearing I've learned to see the world differently. He once told me, “Seeing is overrated.” At the time, I wasn’t sure I believed him, but… he’s given me back what I lost. In some ways, being blind has given me more. My focus is sharper. My senses reach so much farther than before. Blindness may be my disability, but it hasn’t made me disabled.”

“Who was your mentor?” Patty asked. “I’m sure there are many people out there who would like to learn his secrets.”

You remembered giving a secretive smile. “I’m sure they would, but his secret is not mine to reveal.”

“Incredible,” Jan said. “What an amazing woman! No wonder she caught the eye of our fair Captain.”

“According to Captain Rogers, she’d caught it long before (Y/N) had her supernatural abilities restored,” Patty said.

Steve groaned loudly, and you knew they’d switched to your joint interview.

“What’s the first thing you remember about (Y/N), Captain?” Patty asked.

“Steve, please. And that would be her smile,” he said, looking at you. “I remember Natasha introducing us and thinking… how amazing her smile was. After that, it was a never-ending list of things she said or did which caught my attention. I was impressed from the start with her skills and tenacity.”

“Now, not to overstep or be intrusive, but weren’t you with Sharon Carter when you first started working with (Y/N)? I wouldn’t normally ask something so personal, but people will wonder, and talk, and I’m sure you’d like to dispel any nasty rumours before they start.”

Steve didn't even hesitate. “Sharon and I had been drifting apart for a long time before (Y/N) came to the team. When Agent Carter and I did end things, it was Sharon who pointed her out to me and said I should go for it. I will never be able to thank her enough for that. Still, it was a while before (Y/N), and I got together.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Long enough,” Steve said bluntly. “She’s my _sjelevenn_ , my soulmate.” He smiled at you again, causing a blush to fill your cheeks, and murmured, “ _Jeg elsker deg, min vakre skjoldpike._ ”

“Steve,” you smiled. “ _Min elskede_.”

“Aw,” seemed to echo from everyone around the room, causing you to blush in reality and turn your face into Steve’s neck. He only chuckled and held you a little tighter.

“They’re too darn cute, Patty, but… you had to have asked _the_ question? The one everyone wants to know. Did they or didn’t they?” Brian asked.

“Well, what do you think?” Patty laughed.

“And there’s our wedding photo,” Steve snickered.

“Holy shit! I think Jan’s gonna cry!” Sam snorted.

Steve’s words from outside the barn earlier that day rang with finality through the room and everyone cheered before Tony shushed them again.

The interviewed segued back into the portion you’d filmed together, and Patty began speaking again. “I won’t even ask why the secrecy, like we can’t all figure that out, but why the haste? I mean, most people didn’t even know you were seeing anyone, Steve, and certainly not someone who happens to be the Valkyrie Queen of Asgard.”

“Why should they?” you’d asked. “Captain America is certainly a public figure, but Steve Rogers doesn’t have to inform the world who he's dating.”

“Well, he is a public figure, like you said. Celebrities have to understand they give up some of their rights to privacy when they chose to become famous.”

“She did not just fucking say that!” Bucky snapped.

“S’okay, Buck. Give’r a second,” Steve snickered, and you punched him in the chest.

“At what point did Captain Steve Rogers ask to be made famous? He does a job, no different than a soldier or a police officer but no one expects them to give up their privacy. Just because he’s a superhero who saves the world on a regular basis doesn’t mean everyone and their dog should have an inside view of his private life. Yes, it’s understandable people are fans and grateful and want to take pictures and ask him to sign autographs, but no one, no matter how famous, should be subjected to scrutiny within the confines of their own home. And make no mistake, this place,” you waved your hand at the walls around you, “is our home. What happens here is no one's business but ours.”

Patty held up her hands. “I get your meaning. You’re right.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. “My wife is right. We, and I don’t just mean the two of us but the entire group of heroes known as the Avengers, don’t have a lot we get to keep private anymore. Certainly not from each other, so if we keep what we can out of the public eye, it’s for a reason. (Y/N) and I, what we have is special, and we chose to keep it private until we were ready to share.”

“And as for what some people consider a short courtship, well… when you know, you know, right?” you asked, smirking up at Steve.

“Helps when you're destined to find each other life after life,” Steve chuckled.

“Star-crossed lovers. What a tale,” Patty sighed. “So what’s next for you two newlyweds?”

“That would be classified, Ms. Engles,” Steve chuckled.

“Point taken, Captain!” she laughed.

From there, Patty and the news team oohed and ahhed over the photos and snatches of video Tony had provided from the wedding, as well as more footage of the two of you walking in the fall foliage. The rest didn’t matter much. More snippets of the interview until the hour had almost run out.

“So we took to the streets to introduce a few people to Sváfa the Valkyrie Queen and get their thoughts on the newest Avenger before breaking the news.”

You froze, and Steve stiffened. No one had mentioned they’d be doing _that_!

“This is a new Avenger?” the deep voice of a man you couldn’t see asked. “Well, shoot! She can save my ass any day!”

“What if I told you this was Cap’s new girl?”

“Dude! Really?” the shock and envy came across clearly. “Damn! You get it, Cap! If he didn’t marry that girl, he nuts!”

“Wow…” came a female voice. “Look how fast she is.”

“She’s Cap’s mystery girl.”

“Really?” More reverence. “She’s so pretty!”

“Sheet! Look at her go! Damn, girl! Rita! Rita, com’er and see this shit!”

“See what?”

“This! Look at this girl take on the Hulk!”

“Damn, son! Yeah! Oh! Damn, she took him down hard!”

Patty snickered before saying, “She’s the woman in those photos with Captain America.”

“No! Really?” The two women cackled together. “Oh, hun! I think Cap’s bit off a little more than he can handle with this one! Girl, you get yourself some of that big Captain di-”

The beep did little to stop anyone from figuring out just what she was about to say, and Steve went red, heat pouring from his face and neck causing you to belt out a laugh.

“If they only knew how big,” you whispered against Steve’s ear.

Bucky choked on his drink and nearly did a spit take. “Fuck I don't need to hear that!”

“Then stop eavesdropping, rusty!” you snapped, having forgotten about his superpowered ears.

Tony clicked off the news program and wrapped his arms around Pepper's waist. “Well, I'm glad to see you can make it through an interview without cussing, majesty.”

“Bite me, Stark!” you barked.

“Okay. Up we go,” Steve grumbled. “You two jackasses get her all riled up and then I'm the one who has to deal with her.”

“As you've got that big Captain di-"

“Natasha!” you shrieked.

“I'm pretty sure you know how to handle her just fine,” finished the smirking redhead.

You landed on Steve’s shoulder belly first and with a breath-stealing oof. “Rogers!”

“We’re leaving early for Asgard. You, me, and Buck got things to discuss before then. Stop shrieking in my ear, wife.”

He gave your ass a solid smack you returned to his with equal vigour.

“My eyes!” Tony cried. “Jeez, keep that shit for the bedroom.”

“Pretty sure if Barnes is invited they ain't headed for the bedroom,” Sam snorted.

You pressed your hands into Steve’s low back for extra leverage and smirked wickedly at Sam. “You never know, Wilson. After all, people think I'm more than Steve could handle.”

“No.” Bucky waggled his finger at you. “I know how Stevie gets when he's territorial. Don't you put me in that position.”

“Which one, Buck? I know lots of positions,” you purred only to yelp when Steve smacked your ass hard.

“Stop teasing him, woman!”

“But it’s fun!” you whined.

“You know damn well I’m not gonna share, so stop puttin’ ideas in people’s heads!” he ordered as he marched from the room, Tony and Sam’s laughter following you down the hall.

“Spoilsport,” you grumbled. “He never lets me have any fun, Buck.”

“I think he lets you have plenty of fun, doll face. You just like stirrin’ up shit.”

You squeezed Steve’s butt as he marched down the hall. “Consider it payback for all those years he got in trouble as little Steve. Now he’s getting a taste of what you went through.” You shot Bucky a wink and smirk, knowing he’d play along.

“That’s for sure. Least you’re strong enough to get yourself out of the trouble you start now. Unlike some people.” Bucky poked Steve in the shoulder.

“Stop encouraging her!” Steve huffed and flipped you upright to drop you on the sofa in the team’s empty lounge.

“Ah, Stevie, come on. You know you love it.”

He loomed over you, bringing his face close to your smirking one. You bit your lip and giggled when he growled.

“So fuckin’ mouthy,” he grumbled before kissing you hard.

Lightly drawing your talons along his tattoo, you purred when he shivered and grinned when he lifted his head. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

“You know I do, baby,” he smirked and cupped your jaw.

“Cough, still here, cough,” Bucky muttered.

“Get used to it, Buck. Asgardians are… handsy when it comes to their significant others. Public displays of affection are common, even in the palace. Valkyries aren’t any different. Kissing, touching, even a little groping happens to make sure everyone knows who the men walking our halls belong to.”

Steve dropped down beside you, while Bucky slumped into the chair across the coffee table. “And me, majesty? Am I gonna be fighting off hordes of handsy women?”

He said it with a smirk, but you could hear the unease in his voice. “No. You’re my guard, my only guard. No matter what happens, you stay with me or near me. The Valkyrjur should respect your place once you prove you belong there. Then, if you offer a woman your knee, you may find yourself with a willing bed partner. If you don’t want one, keep your legs together.”

Steve snorted a surprised laugh. “What? That’s… what?”

You sighed before standing up. “Everyone eats together at these long tables with shared benches in the Halls of Valhalla. Valkyries aren’t saints. We’re not celibate and never have been, but when the first men began filling the halls, they got grabby, ending with many of them finding out just how fast a Valkyrie can put a knife in your balls.” Both men winced. “It became a practice to ask if a man was looking for company rather than losing his nuts when he tried to take it.” You sat down on the edge of the coffee table facing Bucky. “If a man desires company, he will turn at the end of the meal and straddle the bench, offering his knee to the maidens serving in the hall.” You mimicked the action, turning so one knee sat out past the corner of the table. “If he catches the eye of one, she’ll come over and take a seat.” You got up and slid onto Steve’s knee, pressing your side firmly into his body as you placed your arm around his neck, then reached up with your opposite hand to tilt his face toward yours. “And if you are both willing, she will seal the pact with a kiss.”

You gently skimmed your lips over Steve’s humming in pleasure when they tingled.

“Stick my knee out and catch a broad. Damn this is gonna be a weird joint,” Bucky muttered.

You hit him with a pillow. “Respect, Barnes. Never forget it. These women are the best of the best. They are elite warriors and will have no qualms about kicking your ass if you say something offensive.”

“Yeah, sorry. What else?” Bucky asked, sincere in his apology.

“The neophytes are not to be handled unless you think they are a danger to themselves or me. They will be young girls. Ten is habitually when they arrive, sometimes as young as eight depending on where they’ve come from. They will be garbed in blue breeks and tunic; hair pulled back in braids with a single dagger at their waist. They care for the pegasi and have lessons in both school work and fighting. They must focus on their future. To touch one as a man without just cause… there would be severe punishment.”

“How severe?” Steve asked.

“A beating for sure. Ten lashes minimum. I knew whip maidens who could strip flesh down to the bone with nothing more than a flick of their wrist. It is not an experience you wish to have. It will be different for you, Steve. You’re _sjelevenn_ , bonded to me and marked.”

He’d worn a high collared shirt to keep the mark hidden while being on camera. Not because he was ashamed of it, but because you’d asked him to. A _sjelevenn_ mark was sacred and having them crop up all over the world was not something you wanted to promote.

“Should you come in contact with a neophyte, it would be frowned upon but overlooked. In some cases, at least in the past, it was considered lucky. The young ones believed their chance of becoming _sjelevenn_ went up should they come into contact with a bonded. It doesn’t, but the belief is part of our heritage.”

Again you stood, feeling antsy and in need of movement. “Maidens serve the tables in Valhalla, along with the blooded Valkyrie. It is an honour and a privilege to serve those who wait for Ragnarok, though it is also a challenge. The men fight every day and drink every night. They grow bored easily. Perhaps having you two around will give them something to keep them occupied.”

“Two more old men for the mix?” Bucky chuckled.

You smirked over your shoulder at him. “What makes you think they are old? The men who come to Valhalla were usually young, struck down in their prime. It makes it easy for them to draw a Valkyrie’s eye when they are still virile and handsome.”

“And did any draw your eye, (Y/N)?” Steve asked, his voice hard.

“Would you challenge them if they had, _sjelevenn_?” you asked curiously, a little turned on by his jealousy.

“Yes,” he growled. “I don’t like the idea of someone else having had their hands on what’s mine.”

“Yours, hm?”

“Damn straight.”

“Jeez, Steve. Possessive much?” Buck huffed.

“He did say he didn’t like to share,” you snickered. “Lucky for him, he never has.”

“Really?” Steve sounded surprised.

You wandered back over to sit on the arm of the couch beside him. “I was wholly untouched before you, _min elskede_ ,” you purred as you caressed his cheek.

He jerked you down into his lap where you could feel him grow hard against you. Evidently, your possessive Captain quite liked that idea. “Good. Or I was gonna need to break a few skulls.”

“Now you sound like a Viking,” you snickered and patted his cheek. “Anyway. Neophytes graduate at sixteen to maidens.”

“Sixteen!” Bucky barked. “And they serve in the halls where drunk men can proposition them?”

“Barnes, some of those men are no older than eighteen. It’s a different world, but as I said, it is the Valkyrie’s choice. If she isn’t comfortable with taking a lover until later, that is her decision, but my world is not this one. At sixteen those women can be, and have been, sent off world with the expectation they may not come home. Who are we to say they are or are not ready for sex when they are willing to die for their world?”

Bucky scrubbed his hand over his face. “Remind me to keep my knees together,” he grumbled.

Steve snorted out a laugh. “Oh man! I remember your mama sayin’ the same thing about Sara May Aberdeen when she used to flirt with you over the washing line.”

“She was the local light skirt,” Bucky grumbled. “But she was still a sweet girl. Wonder whatever happened to her?”

A little melancholy filled the air you rushed to dissipate. “Mostly it’s the older Valkyrie who accepts the offered invitations, and if a man is uncomfortable with the woman on his knee, he is allowed to decline. Consent is essential. No one is forced into anything without consequences being swift and harsh.”

“What other oddities should we expect, baby?” Steve asked, jumping on the change of subject.

“Clothes. You’ll both be kitted out in Asgard before we continue on to the mountain.”

“I get my own armour?” Bucky perked up, his smile full and excited.

“Of course. How are you supposed to guard my back without it?” you asked.

“I just thought I’d take my standard gear and go from there,” he said, leaning forward. “But Steve’s was real neat, and I want to get my hands on a set.”

You laughed at his boyish excitement. “You’re the Queen’s guard, Buck. You get to have all the toys.”

“Sweet!”

“Though… you’d better let someone show you how to use them first, so you don’t blow off your foot,” you muttered.

“I thought Asgard didn’t have guns?” asked Steve.

“Not the kind you guys are used to. These are more like energy weapons. Closer to what the Chitauri used. Though we're still more inclined to go the sword and dagger route.”

“Least this isn’t going to be a problem,” Bucky said, flexing his hand.

“And I’m going to see if Loki can cast the same spell Frigga used for understanding our language. The last thing we need is people talking around you, and you not understanding. But if we can keep it quiet that you speak the language, people may be more inclined to spill their secrets around you.”

Steve tucked your hair behind your ear. “Can he help us read it too, sweetheart? That way you’ll never wonder if someone isn’t being honest with whatever letter is being read to you.”

“We’ll have to ask. If Loki can’t, Odin might be able too.”

“Anything else you think is imperative, doll face?” Bucky asked.

“Only one thing. Bucky, the instant I announce you as my guard, you _will_ be challenged. They don't think a man can do the job and if you lose, you will be sent home. But they will also underestimate you. You and Steve hit Gunborg’s man at the same time. They will assume it was the combined power which sent him flying, not that you were both pulling your punches. You have an advantage. Use it.”

“Can I fight dirty?”

“You fight as dirty as you like. You’re my guard. There should be nothing you won’t do to keep me safe.”

“And me, babe?” Steve asked.

“You get to stand around and look pretty, Steven,” you snickered.

“Gee thanks,” he grunted.

“Steve, you stand at my side looking like your Captain self, and no one will doubt you have the same skill as your _brother_.” He frowned and you motioned to the arm ring Bucky was playing with. “That ring speaks for itself. Bucky is clan. He’s family. He owes you his fealty as head of that clan. He is now the person who would have the closest claim to your throne should something happen to you. His showing in battle is a direct reflection on you. He does well, you look good.”

“Slacking off again, Rogers,” Bucky tsked and shook his head.

“He’ll get his chance. The warriors of Valhalla will want to test their swords against the Queen’s consort. Thor boasts about you on Asgard. People will be curious to know if our Midgardian heroes stack up to his boasting.”

“No pressure,” Steve scoffed.

Before you could reassure him, Friday came over the speaker system. “The boss wanted me to inform you an angry Secretary Ross is marching this way.”

“Well, that was fast,” Bucky muttered, getting to his feet to stand between you and the door.

“Practice, Buck?” Steve teased.

“Gotta start sometime,” the former winter soldier agreed.

Ross stomped through the open archway into the room. Tony sauntered in a few paces behind him with Pepper on his arm.

“Now, Secretary Ross, they've only just returned. I'm sure your congratulations can wait till a future date,” Pepper said cordially, but you could hear the undertone of dislike in her words.

“Congratulations is the last thing I'm going to give them!” he barked.

“Friday,” you said softly.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Make sure you record what's about to happen.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

You rolled your eyes at the formal address, knowing Tony was doing it on purpose.

“Can I help you?” Bucky asked, blocking Ross’s path with his wide stance.

“Move, Barnes, or you’ll regret it,” Ross snarled.

“Its okay, Buck,” Steve murmured. “Let him through.”

Ross shouldered past Bucky and stomped closer. “I don't know what game you two are playing, but it stops now!”

“Game, Secretary?” you asked. “There’s no game.”

“I was here that day you claim you got married! There was no wedding happening here!”

You blinked at him, face showing your disdain. “None that you saw at any rate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Loki was more than happy to keep you from crashing the party… sir.”

“I beg your pardon? If you two were planning on getting married, I should have been informed immediately!”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

Slowly, you unfolded yourself from Steve’s lap and stood to your full height. “Why should we have told you when your presence was unwanted?”

“Because I'm the Secretary-"

“And I'm Queen!” you bellowed cutting him off. “What you _want_ , what you think you're _entitled_ to, is no longer relevant! As you cannot command Thor, you cannot command me, so take your measly title and shove it up your ass, _Secretary_!”

“Now see here! I run this facilities oversight, and I can shut you down-”

“You do that and see what happens. See how fast you get slapped back to Private because your pissed and pouting, acting like a damn child because you didn't get to come to our wedding! You think the public or the President will allow that to happen because your _feelings_ are hurt?”

“Don't you threaten me!”

“Or what? Will you try and stick a collar on me? Will you throw me in the Raft? Try it and see what happens! Are you hoping to start a war, Ross?”

“You had no right to get married without my permission!”

“Why? Because you think Steve is a possession owned by the United States government?”

“Yes!”

You punched him in the face before anyone could stop you, sending him straight to the ground.

“Oh, damn, girl!” Tony snickered.

The four guards with Ross rushed you. None of them made it past Bucky. You stomped your way over to where Ross landed, Steve hot on your heels, and dragged Ross from the ground with one hand. “Now you listen to me. You can claim the weapons, the tech, the suit, and the damn shield as property of the US government, but if I ever hear this indentured servant _bullshit_ leave your lips again I swear by all the Gods in Asgard I will knock out your teeth! Steve is not _property_! He volunteered for the super soldier program, and as far as anyone is concerned, he did his time. He could walk tomorrow, and no one would fault him. He has a home and another life available to him now if he wants it, so do not think for one fucking minute he has nowhere else to go. You should be kissing his boots every day he came back after the fucking mess you made with the accords, not telling him what he can and can't do in his personal life!” you shrieked.

“Baby. (Y/N), sweetheart. Your eyes are glowing. You need to put the Secretary down now.”

You wanted so badly to chuck the man across the room but figured in your rage you might kill him, so you just let go and let him fall to the ground.

“I'll see you… court-martialed for this!” Ross wheezed.

“You can have my gun and my badge. I'm not Agent (Y/N) anymore. I'm a Valkyrie. I protect the people who can't protect themselves, and the world now knows me as such. If you want to explain why you kicked the Queen of the Valkyries and Captain America’s wife out of the Avengers, you go right ahead. Otherwise, I'll see you when the bad guys show up. Now, get the hell out of my home!”

Slow clapping filled the room, causing everyone to look up.

“I couldn't have said it better myself, your majesty,” Fury said, a crooked grin on his face. “Ross, the President would like to see you. Now. He's none too impressed he wasn't informed of Mrs. Rogers other titles and was right put out to have to find out about the Queen living in his country on the six o’clock news.”

“This isn't over,” Ross snapped.

“Oh, I assure you it most certainly is. Hill. Escort the Secretary and his men from the building. Our oversight is no longer necessary.”

“Gladly, sir,” Maria quipped and hustled the anger spewing Ross from the room.

“Well, Majesties.” Fury smirked. “It seems I was just in time for the fireworks.”

“Director? What are you doing here?” you asked when no one else spoke up.

“I'm here to oversee things for a while until you three get back. Stark's going to need to suit up and be the heavy hitter while you're gone. I'll run things on this end when he's busy.”

“Why, Nick. I didn't know you cared?” Tony smirked.

“Don't make me shoot you, Stark,” Fury muttered. “Thanks for making my return a memorable one, your majesty.”

He smirked his crooked smile your way. “If you missed me punching Ross in his arrogant face, I asked Friday to film it.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Fury chuckled as he walked away.

“Director?” Steve called before he could leave. “Are we really done with oversight?”

“The committee has been re-tasked to look into some rather shady deals which have come to light in a few senators campaigns. For now, we are on our own again.”

“No more Ross?” you asked.

“No more Ross,” he agreed. “And if the President is still as pissed off as he was when I talked to him when Ross gets there…” He shrugged. “We may never hear about Secretary Ross again. The President did ask me to extend his congratulations and wish you both well, as well as inform you if you’d like to visit, his door is always open to the Valkyrie Queen and her Captain.”

Fury walked away, and Tony let out a snort of irritation. “No one ever invites me to visit the White House!”

“You didn't marry a Queen, brother,” Steve joked. “Opens all kinds of doors. No offence, Pepper.”

She shrugged and smiled, taking none. You chuckled along with Steve and the rest of them, content to know Fury was back in charge while you were gone. No one was better at keeping an eye on things then Nicholas Joseph Fury.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Drama
> 
> Song: Proud by Lea Michele

## Chapter Five

* * *

“Are you ready for this, _lillesøster_?” Loki asked, his hand gently cupping your chin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you sighed.

“Is coming home so terrible?” he asked.

“Loki, you know it’s not. It’s not Asgard I fear,” you said, fidgeting with your armour. Turning away from him, you ran your hands over Hemme’s neck and began checking his tack for the third time.

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

“Of course there’s need to be nervous!” you snapped, causing Hemme to grunt when you pulled too hard on his girth. Laying an apologetic hand on his shoulder, you smoothed down his stirrup and stopped fussing with his gear.

“There is not.” Loki took you by the shoulders and turned you around. “There is only treachery to be discovered and plucked out like so many weeds. We will help you get to the bottom of this, darling. I promise.”

You sighed but nodded. “I know. I also know these next few days will be… trying.”

Loki plucked the helmet hanging from Hemme’s saddle and held it between his hands. “You have this. Freyja’s helm.” He ran his fingers through the plumage of feathers and down the sharp beak which had once protected Freya’s face.

“Considering how long it has been since anyone has seen Freyja, I doubt half of them will recognize it.”

“Considering the size of her statue in the courtyard, how could you think they will not know it on sight?”

You moved up to Hemme’s head and stroked his cheek. “Has it been too long, Loki? Am I fooling myself to think I even have a right to sit on the throne?”

“When have you ever been a pessimist?”

“Loki,” you sighed.

“Stop being such a downer, darling. You are Queen. You are meant to be queen. You will be queen for many lifetimes. The curse on you is but a bump in the road.”

“It’s a damn sinkhole, and you know it, Loki,” you huffed.

“Mm, perhaps.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But I have always been rather good at getting out of troubled places. And your _sjelevenn_ is at your side.” Loki nodded toward Steve striding out the compound doors with Thor and Bucky by his side, the others strolling out behind them.

The armour he’d worn on your wedding day was once again on his back, making him appear nearly twice his size. From his back hung a heavy cloak, fur resting across his shoulders to keep off the chill, and Sam was teasing him about, “Winter is coming,” calling him Lord Roger's and generally being a pain in the ass.

Thor too wore a heavier cloak than usual, Asgard growing cold with the forthcoming winter, while the briskness didn't bother Loki in the least.

Bucky appeared with a goofy grin, sword on his hip and cloak on his back; his shaggy hair tangling with the fur across his shoulders. He looked giddy as a schoolboy, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword or tracing the lacings on his tunic. Nothing, not even Sam’s teasing, could wipe the smile from his mouth. A deeper look showed he wore his vibranium vest, a gift from T’Challa, beneath the tunic. His armour would be created in Asgard to fit his position as Queen’s Guard, but clearly, he already liked the clothing.

Leather pants suited both men. Steve, and especially Bucky, had the thighs for it.

Behind them gathered the rest of your friends and family to see you off. You’d gone through your farewells before leaving to attend to Hemme and were taking little with you besides sword and your cleaned and repaired Valkyrie armour.

Tony’s Iron Valkyrie suit - as he called it - would be of little use on Asgard, though you wished you could take it. If it could stop a bullet, it would stop a sword, but to your people, that was as good as cheating. However, Asgard’s magic wouldn’t work well with Tony’s tech, a thought which made you check to be sure Bucky’s arm-ring wrapped his wrist.

He hadn’t taken it off since Steve had given it to him, mumbling about being proud to wear it as a sign of honour. Steve wore his as well, beneath the leather of his bracer, and you reached up to press your fingers down on the leather of your breastplate which guarded the locket Steve had given you. Three simple pieces, but it felt like they all bound you together.

“Time to go,” you whispered and swept your cloak back to make mounting easier.

“Everything will be fine, (Y/N),” Loki murmured, laying his hand on your knee. “Not even the humans can mess this up.”

He smirked at you when you glared at him. “I’m one of those humans, Loki.”

“No, darling. You’re not,” he said softly. “Not anymore, but then your Captain and Barnes are not quite human anymore either.”

“Big souls,” you murmured, peering at them curiously. “Steve’s is so much more than it was.”

“I will take your word on that.” Loki handed over your helmet but didn’t let go when you tried to take it. “Be the queen, my darling Sváfa.”

You tilted your head. “Keep safe my crown, _ugagn_.” You’d given it to him earlier, knowing he’d return it once you settled into the palace.

There would be a feast - of course, there was always a feast - to celebrate the return of what Thor was calling Asgard’s favourite daughter. Something else to be nervous about, but you pushed it aside for the time being.

“I will see you at the observatory, (Y/N).” Loki walked away to wait with Thor for Bucky.

While the two Asgardians and your super soldier backup would be taking the Bifrost, you and Steve would be taking the less… colourful road. Hemme was well versed in all the places of importance on Asgard and assured you he knew where to go. You left it to him, trusting your steed to get you there in one piece.

Urging Hemme forward, you made your way toward Steve.

“If you need us, call for Heimdall,” Steve was saying.

“Steve,” Natasha smiled, but it was sharp with annoyance. “Go away. You’ve said that so many times, no one is going to forget it.”

“Things will be fine, Captain,” Fury huffed. “Your Queen needs you more than we do at the moment. Get off-world before that changes.”

“Director, if you just jinxed us,” Sam sighed.

“I’ve got it handled, Steve,” Tony said quietly. The tone was one of calm assurance, but you could hear the quick cadence of his heartbeat.

“Thank you, Tony,” you said. “We know you do.”

Steve looked up at you and smiled. “Damn, baby. That’s a swell look.”

“Keep it in your pants, Rogers,” Bucky muttered. “Don’t blow up the building while we’re gone, Wilson,” he called as he headed toward the waiting Asgardians.

“Don’t get stabbed while you’re gone, rusty!” Sam shouted.

You chuckled, knowing they’d miss each other, and slipped the helmet over your head. “Let’s go, Steve. Before I change my mind.”

He snickered and stole your stirrup to swing himself up behind you.

“You forget something, Captain,” Maria said before you could turn Hemme away.

Steve caught his shield when she tossed it at him. “But…”

“Who’s gonna carry it when you’re gone, Steve?” Wanda asked.

“You will need a shield to go with your sword,” Vision said wisely. “Having one a sword will not break as (Y/N’s) was broken by the _lja’s_ claws will be beneficial.”

“You’re right, Vis,” you smiled at him. “Can’t believe you were leaving it behind, _sjelevenn_ ,” you scolded teasingly.

He hooked the strap on the inside over the hilt of his sword and swung his cloak around his body. “When you're ready, my queen.”

“We’ll try and keep you apprised of what’s happening,” you said to the group at large before nudging Hemme into motion.

“Whenever you can, your grace,” Fury snickered.

You flipped him the bird. “Thor! We’ll see you on the Bifrost!”

“Not if we see you there first!” Thor bellowed.

“Hold on, Steve,” you said, feeling his grip tighten when Hemme launched himself skyward.

Steve was plenty strong enough to grip with his thighs, so you were more concerned with him sliding back than falling off as Hemme’s huge wings took you higher. The crackle in the air appeared, atmospheric disturbance preceding the opening of the Bifrost as Thor cried out to Heimdall.

Hemme circled the compound once and blew out a breath.

“Now,” you said, giving him the signal to open the tear between worlds.

As soon as it did, you grunted, feeling it like a blow to the chest. “Steve?”

“Baby?”

Hemme winged his way toward the tear, and you clutched for your heart. “Something’s wrong…”

“(Y/N)?” His grip tightened around your waist as he reached forward and grabbed the front of the saddle.

“Steve…” You bowed forward over his arm, pain tearing through you.

“(Y/N)!” he cried as you hit the opening in space.

You screamed an inhuman sound. It was like something dug its claws into your soul and slowly shredded through it. Then you hit a wall, slamming back into Steve, body jerking as you convulsed in his arms.

Hemme screamed, Steve bellowed your name, and everything went black.

***

Steve panicked. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did. She’d gone limp in his arms, and he’d damn near fallen off Hemme’s back with how hard she’d seized. Now she was unresponsive, and he panicked.

“Baby! (Y/N), doll! Talk to me. Come on, baby. Don’t do this to me!”

Wrenching her from the saddle, Steve slung her up into his arms. Face obscured by her helmet, he pulled it from her head and would have chucked it away except the world below caught his attention. Water, lots of it, all flowing off the edge of the world. It would have been awe-inspiring if he wasn’t so damn scared.

Hemme gave a distressed whiny, and Steve heaved himself forward into the saddle. “Go! Get us down! Find Thor!”

He knew just how fast and hard the pegasus could bank and gripped (Y/N) tighter as he fought to find the stirrups and keep them both from falling off and likely to their death. The big black’s muscles bunched, his wings folded, and Steve grunted when they dropped like a rock, straight down toward a golden dome and bridge which appeared to be made of pulsing rainbows.

A bright white light erupted from the end of the dome, but he was more concerned with the woman in her arms and her shallow breathing. Hemme plummeted toward the bridge, his wings snapping open at the last possible second to back wing hard before landing. The sudden stop threw Steve forward, but he managed to keep from crushing his girl against the neck of her steed.

Hemme danced nervously beneath him.

“You need to be still so I can get down,” Steve warned him, and the pegasus went stock still.

It was a less than graceful dismount, seeing him stumbling to a knee, and (Y/N)’s helmet tumbling from his fingers to clatter across the bridge of sparkles and glass. “Baby, baby, wake up!”

Loud thumping feet had Steve looking up and reaching for his sword, but when Heimdall appeared, he relaxed and returned to touching his girl’s cheek. “Please, baby doll.”

“I saw,” Heimdall murmured, kneeling across from Steve.

“I don’t know what happened,” Steve said. “The tear opened, and she said she didn’t feel good, something was wrong, then she screamed and…”

“Captain!” Thor shouted, the running of feet announcing the arrival of three more bodies.

“I don’t know what happened,” Steve whispered, rubbing at his chest.

Loki knelt at her head and placed his hands down near her temples. “When she was young, she showed me certain things about… souls. Things I should not know as a man of Asgard.”

“What?” Thor gasped, crouching beside Heimdall.

“I know, brother. It was never my wish to be a Valkyrie, unlike you, but I was curious about Valkyrie magic. It becomes ingrained in them, right down to the bones. She taught me how to measure souls, but I don’t like doing it. Their magic feels… uncomfortable to me.”

“Cut to the chase, Loki!” Steve snapped.

Green light flared around his hands and engulfed (Y/N). Then a white glow seemed to rise above her body. A white glow full of red, throbbing lesions.

“Is that…” Bucky breathed, awe in his voice as he knelt beside Steve.

“Her soul,” Loki finished. “Captain. Place your hand in the center.”

“Why?” Steve asked.

“Because you are near to rubbing a hole in your armour. How badly does your chest hurt?”

Steve startled, looked down, and pulled his hand away. “I didn’t…”

Loki scoffed. “Clearly. Hand, Captain. Do it now. I must see what I am working with.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked even as he reached his hand into that glowing white light. Warmth infused him, rippled up his arm, and suddenly he too was glowing but much brighter than she was.

“Hm, she was right. Your soul is vast,” Loki muttered.

Steve glanced at Bucky who shrugged. “Is that a… good thing?”

“In this case, yes. Your soul is shared. Because yours is so much bigger than it once was, this damage has not spread through you as it did her.”

“English, please,” Bucky grumbled.

Thor tilted his head. “You see how the tears have not spread through Steve? How they flow only through him where his soul touches (Y/N)’s but no further?”

“Yes,” Bucky murmured.

“If your Captain was not who he is, we may have lost both of you when you came through to Asgard. I was foolish not to think, not to see,” Loki snarled.

“See what?” Steve asked.

“This curse they set upon you, the reason she was never reborn on Asgard, is because they blocked her soul from ever returning. When she came through the tear, she hit the barrier against her soul, and it tore her apart.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “You’d best not be saying she’s dying.”

Loki shook his head. “No, Steve, she’s not dying. Not yet, but she is damaged. I can do some, but the rest is up to you.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything,” Steve whispered.

“Then you must share more of yourself. Sync your souls, so she now carries a bigger piece of you. You must go even deeper, bind yourself even further to her. Already your bond is strong. You feel her as you never have before. What this will do? I could not say with any certainty, but it will heal the damage done.”

“And?” Bucky murmured, frowning at Loki.

“And what, Sergeant?” Loki asked.

“I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re holding something back. What’s the catch, Loki?”

Loki gritted his teeth together and glared at Bucky. “How observant you are. The addition ties them together.”

“We already are,” Steve snapped, disliking the arguing when his girl’s brow was furrowed in pain, a pain he could feel radiating up his arm.

“Not like this. Not at all like this,” Loki said quietly. “You feel her heart, are joined at the soul, would suffer and die of a broken heart if she were lost to you, but this… this is a tie that cannot be unbound. You would not fade away if you lost her, as she did when she lost you your first life. This would be an instant taking. You die, she dies and vice versa. Instantly. You take a bullet, she’ll feel it. She takes a sword, you’ll feel it. Physically, you will be as one person.”

Steve swallowed thickly. “And… if I don’t?”

“Her soul is torn. Shredded. She may wake, she may not. If she does, she will live a life of constant pain, and when she dies - because it is a when, Captain not if - I am not sure she will be strong enough to return again.”

“Even with a _sjelevenn_ bond?” Steve asked hoarsely.

“They have torn her soul asunder, Steven. The pain is great even in her unconscious state. If you don’t share your soul, your larger than necessary, bright, powerful soul, you may as well put a knife in her heart yourself.”

“Loki!” Heimdall barked.

“No,” Steve shook his head and locked eyes with Loki. “He’s right. What do I do?”

“Steve…” Bucky murmured.

“Do you think I went through everything, the Hounds, getting her back, helping her find herself, finding Daredevil, watching her grow and change and become who she is, just to lose her now?” Steve snapped, glaring at his best friend.

Bucky held up his hands. “Wasn’t gonna stop you. I know better than that. Just wanted you to think for a second about how dangerous our lives are.”

Steve shook his head and returned his gaze to the pained face of his girl. “And if I leave her like this we’re both as good as dead, cause I promise you, Buck. If she goes, I will follow her.”

“And it is not as if she will not face the same dangers, Bucky,” Thor said quietly. “She is his _sjelevenn_. There is no battle he will face, no place he will go she will not follow.”

“Even if she is called to face the foes of Asgard, I highly doubt the Captain would allow her to go without him,” Heimdall agreed.

“Then do it, Steve. Whatever it takes, right?” Bucky said, placing his hand on  Steve’s shoulder.

“Whatever it takes,” Steve agreed and looked at Loki.

The magic around them winked out, taking the vision of her soul with it, but Steve could still feel it. Feel her reaching out, crying out, searching for him and begging for him to help her.

“I will, baby,” he whispered, lifting her from the ground and cradling her close. “I’ve got you.”

“Captain, your hand.” Loki held his out and a dagger in the other.

Steve gave his over without hesitation, remaining unflinching when Loki stabbed the end of his finger and caused blood to well.

“Brother?” Thor murmured. “Blood magic?”

“It is the only way,” Loki said.

“It is forbidden,” Heimdall said quietly.

Loki paused before turning Steve’s hand and running Steve’s bloody finger over (Y/N)’s lips. “I am aware, but as I am not calling demons from Muspelheim, I think the King will overlook my indiscretion. Now, be silent.”

Steve watched him like a hawk, uncertain but unwilling to stop whatever was happening. Not when his wife’s life was on the line. Loki used Steve’s finger and his blood to draw a series of runes on her forehead and each cheek. Then, he pricked (Y/N)’s finger and lifted it to Steve’s face.

“Do not lick your lips,” Loki murmured as he passed the warm wetness over Steve’s mouth.

The urge to do so was intense, but Steve ignored it in favour of peering down at his girl. “Stay with me, doll face,” he whispered as Loki finished writing the runes on his skin as well.

When the God of Mischief began to whisper, his magic glowing gold and green around his hands, Steve felt it like a cold breeze crawling up his back. The words were foreign even though both he and Bucky could now understand the language of Asgard, of the Æsir. This was undoubtedly the language of someone or something else, and it gave him chills to hear it.

The bloody marks on his skin warmed, the ones on his wife’s face began to glow, and the red on her lips sank in until it seemed to stain her lips with its deep wine colour.

“Kiss your woman, Captain. Breathe life into her and share what she needs,” Loki commanded, his voice echoing.

Steve didn’t hesitate. He ducked his head as he lifted her and sealed their mouths together. The shock of the connection rolled through him like a bolt of Thor’s lightning. He could feel the pull as a piece of himself slipped away, flowed into her, and renewed what was broken. The intensity of it as they were joined in a way he’d never known possible left Steve dizzy and breathless.

Then he felt it. The deep inhalation of her breath. The movement of her muscles when she lifted her hand and sank it into his hair. The pleasure she took in his kiss and how her lips tingled. She breathed and his lungs filled with air. Her heart beat and his followed. Desire filled her, and his body stirred in reaction.

It was odd and wonderful and everything. Her movements were his, her actions feeling like his own muscles were moving. And when she sighed and smiled against his lips, he smiled as well.

“Steven,” she whispered. “I feel you. I can feel your heart in my heart.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, gently stroking her cheek, now free of blood with the back of his hand.

“What happened?”

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes only to gasp and reach for his face. “I… I can see you.”

“What?” Steve whispered.

“Sort of.” She frowned.

“What’s that mean?” Bucky asked.

“It’s dark still. Colours are muted, and everyone’s edges are soft as if I’m seeing things at dusk.” She lifted her hands to Steve’s face. “But I can see you. I can see the blue of your eyes.” Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. “What happened? What did you do?”

“The curse which binds you also kept you from returning. I should have known. Should have expected it.” Loki shook his head. “When you came through whatever barrier they’ve erected against you, it tore through you like knives, darling.”

Her big beautiful eyes widened, unchanged even with her return to sight, limited though it was. “That’s why it hurt so much?”

“Indeed.”

“How do you feel, my queen?” Heimdall asked.

“Fine,” she smiled at him. “Good actually. Really good. What did you do, Loki?”

He hesitated before speaking. “I had no choice, lillesøster. I bound you fully to your _sjelevenn_. His soul poured into yours and fixed what was wrought.”

She pressed a hand to her lips. “Loki… blood magic?”

“I won’t lose you again, Sváfa,” he said softly.

“ _Ugagn_ … it’s forbidden.”

“How much darker can my soul get, lillesøster?” Loki smiled sadly.

“It’s not dark, _ugagn_ , but no more dark magic.”

“Perhaps dark magic is what’s needed to combat the dark magic used,” Loki said before rising to his feet.

Steve didn’t want to think about that. The last time they’d talked about dark magic, it was in regards to an infant being sacrificed to disrupt their soul bond. “I’d rather not use more dark magic if we don’t have to.”

“This was more… grey at any rate,” Loki murmured. “There is nothing evil in it. Only pure intention even if the magic used was darker than I prefer.”

“And we will make no mention of its use,” Thor said as he too stood to his feet. “People would not look kindly upon you if they knew of this.”

“As you say, my King,” Heimdall nodded.

“I got nothing to say about it,” Bucky shrugged. “What do I know of magic?”

Steve helped (Y/N) to her feet and pulled her close so he could bury his face in her neck. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered against her.

“I’ll try not to,” she said just as softly. “That hurt a lot.”

“I know. I felt it, but not like you did.” Steve kissed her cheek and held her tight.

Hemme whickered and trotted over, his hooves sounding loud over the rushing water. He nudged his nose into her shoulder and (Y/N) scratched his cheek. “Thank you for seeing us safely here.”

“And here, friends is our home,” Thor said, his smile wide as he held out his hand. “Welcome… to Asgard.”

Together, Steve and Bucky turned to face the city. Keeping his wife close, Steve stared in awe at the golden glory.

“Incredible,” Bucky breathed.

“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Steve murmured.

“Come on, Dorthy. The scarecrow and the lion will show you, and your little dog around,” (Y/N) giggled.

“Does that make you the Tin Man?” Bucky asked.

(Y/N) only pointed at Heimdall who chuckled. Evidently, he understood that reference.

“So what’s that make you, doll face?” Steve asked.

She stepped out from under his arm, turned and walked backward away from them with her arms out. “Why I’m the good witch Glenda. Can’t you tell?” Loki threw her helmet at her, and she picked it deftly out of the air. “Thank you, Scarecrow.”

“Do not start with me, darling,” he huffed.

“Why am I the lion?” Thor pouted. “I’m brave.”

“It’s the golden mane,” snickered Bucky.

Thor shook his finger at him. “Watch it, Barnes. Or I will see the armoury makes your breastplate just a bit too snug.”

“My King. The warriors approach.” Heimdall motioned toward the city.

Four riders each leading a second horse raced down the Bifrost. All were familiar as Lady Sif lead the way and the Warrior’s Three galloped along with her.

“Well, let’s get this party started,” (Y/N) said.

Together, Bucky and Steve moved up to stand at her shoulders.

“You’ve got this, baby,” Steve murmured, linking his fingers through hers.

“Yeah, doll face,” Bucky smirked. “We’re with you. Til the end of the line.”

Steve glanced at Bucky and nodded. “Together.”

She looked up at Bucky, her lip quivering as she fought back the tears, humbled by his offer to the point Steve felt his own eyes well. “Together.”

“Together,” Loki and Thor agreed.

“You have my eyes, my queen,” Heimdall murmured. “You need only ask.”

Behind them, Hemme rose on his hind legs, stretched his wings out, and screamed a challenge the likes of which Steve had only heard once before. The day he nearly killed Elektra. Every horse on the Bifrost sat back on its haunches and came to a stop, eyes rolling in fear.

“What did he say?” Bucky asked (Y/N).

(Y/N) smiled wickedly. “Beware the queen’s coming.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, slight violence   
> Song: Believer by Imagine Dragons

## Chapter Six

* * *

The ride through the city took longer than you remembered. Partly because it was bigger, and partly because Steve and Bucky kept stopping to stare in clear amazement at the place. Asgard was a wonder, undoubtedly, one no one begrudged them their first view of. Always awe-inspiring, there was nothing like the first time one came to the golden city.

Even Hemme was content to wander along beside Steve’s gelding with his wings folded. Yes, he preferred to fly, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to use his feet.

You, on the other hand, were trying to make sense of the partial sight you’d regained. It had to do with your full connection to Steve, you knew it, but it was still a surprise. Colours were muted, the blue of Steve’s eyes the only vibrant one you could pick out, and with the return of this partial sight, you were having a hard time focusing like you used to.

It gave you anxiety, feeling almost blinder than before when what your eyes were trying to tell you contradicted your radar. Eventually, you returned Freyja’s helm to your head and pulled the beak down, letting it cover your eyes and return you to the blessed darkness you’d come to rely on. It was going to take time to figure this out. Time you didn’t have. However, once the dark returned, your senses heightened, and your world washed in red was once more complete.

A quiet sigh slipped from you before you could stop it, drawing Steve’s attention.

“You alright, doll?” he asked and reached for your hand.

“Fine,” you smiled and squeezed his fingers. “It looks like I may need to relearn a few things is all.”

He squeezed back but didn’t let go, only nudged his gelding over until Steve’s leg brushed Hemme’s feathers. “I think we both do,” he said so softly you were sure only you had heard him.

“What’s that mean?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he smiled, offering reassurance whatever was going on with him was nothing to be feared.

You were arriving at the foot of the palace stairs when the approaching Wing registered and snapped your head up. “Valkyries.”

“Already?” Loki grumbled. “They can’t even give you a day?”

“Would Asgard give Thor a day if he’d been gone a thousand years?” you asked, nudging Hemme forward with your heels.

The guard along the stairs came to attention when Thor moved up beside you. “Don’t let them bully you,” he murmured.

“Have I ever?” you snorted and looked at Bucky. “I thought this would happen when we got to the valley, but looks like you’re gonna get a workout now.”

Bucky only grinned and dismounted. Both of your super soldiers did and came to stand to either side of Hemme’s head when Thor backed his mount away. This was not an Asgard matter but a Valkyrjur one.

“You both ride better than I expected,” you said quietly as the Wing of nine Valkyrie began their descent.

“Had to learn back in the day,” Steve said.

“Like riding a bike. You don’t really forget, or at least it wasn’t something I forgot,” Bucky chuckled. “Though we never had horses like that.” He tilted his head toward the mounts they’d left with the others.

“You’ll find no finer horses than those of Asgard. They are of Sleipnir's blood.” You lifted your chin definitely when the nine landed.

All of them dismounted, left their pegasi behind, and came forward to press fists to their hearts and bow before settling to a knee.

“Most gracious Queen. We have been sent for you to choose your honour guard,” the one in the middle said.

She was tall and muscular, her body a testament to her training. But when you tilted Freyja’s helmet back to have a better look, you frowned.

“Have things changed so much you arrive to greet your queen in dress more suitable to serving in the halls of Valhalla?” You swung your leg over Hemme’s neck and dropped to the ground to stalk forward, Bucky and Steve hard on your heels.

The woman wore a leather halter style shirt, tight leather pants, and ornate gold and silver bands wrapped her wrists and upper arms. Though her hair was braided as a Valkyrie's should be, it remained unadorned without feather or ring.

“Where is your armour?”

“My queen,” a quiet voice called, this one familiar.

You looked down the line to find the one Valkyrie properly attired. “Eira, rise and come here.”

She was quick to it, striding swiftly forward to bow a second time. Her eyes darted to Bucky and widened before she dropped them to the ground at your feet. “My queen?”

The white of her armour gleamed in the Asgardian sun, her hair in braids though what feathers she wore were clearly gleaned from the wing of her pegasus and the only metal cuff to adorn her hair was the one proclaiming her advanced from advocate to maiden.

“You are a maiden yet, are you not?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Her hands closed slowly into fists.

“Then why are you in this lineup?”

The harshness of your tone had Steve and Bucky closing ranks.

“I’m sorry, my queen,” she dropped to her knee. “It was not my decision.”

You set your metal cover hand on her head. She was lovely, undoubtedly sweet, without a hint of deception on her. You’d have to ask Loki to be sure, but you thought maybe, just maybe, she could be an ally in what was coming. But the fact they had put a maiden up for offer, four maidens you found when you looked down the line of kneeling women, made it perfectly clear you were expected to pick the five warriors put before you for your Honour Guard.

“Tell me, Eira. Who sent you?”

“Gunborg,” she murmured. “At the behest of the _Fullmakt_.”

“And why should I pick any of you?” you asked, directing the question at the original speaker.

“We were thought to be the most suitable, your majesty,” she replied, rising without your permission.

“Your name?” you asked, cold rage building at her disrespect.

“Medina.” She lifted her chin proudly.

You ground your teeth together tightly before reaching up to take Freyja’s helmet from your head. At this point, the three you knew were maidens were staring at it awe, the four with Medina also eyed it in shock when you held it out to Eira who took it with shaking hands.

“Freyja’s helm?” she gasped, staring up at you in amazement.

“The Goddess and I spoke at length before I returned,” you answered without elaborating. “Eira will remain to be my _ledsager_. The rest of you return to the Valkyrjur. Three are unblooded, the rest of you are unfit. My Honour Guard is chosen.”

Eira gasped softly, but stood and bowed, clutching your helm tightly. “You honour me, my queen.”

“With all due respect, your majesty-”

You cut Medina off with a raised hand. “Why offer respect now when you haven’t bothered up to this point?”

She drew herself up tall. “With respect, my queen. The old ways are not the ways of today. No one is required to dress in full battle gear anymore. Odin no longer sits upon the throne, and we have not been called to battle in centuries. We dress as we like in accordance with the decrees of the _Fullmakt_.”

The clear disrespect of both Odin and Thor did not escape you, nor it seemed, did it escape those watching from the sidelines.

Bucky’s cloak fell from his throat to pool around his ankles, but you held out your hand.

“You insult the current King of Asgard with your blatant way of speaking, Medina. Apologize or suffer the consequences.”

“I am First among the Wings and Rider of Apallion. I apologize to no man,” she sneered.

“You _will_ apologize to the King. Now!” you snarled.

“I recognize no king,” Medina growled and drew her sword. “I claim the right of Queen's Challenge! You are no queen of mine!”

Again Bucky made to move, but it was too late. Medina had thrown out the challenge, and you could not allow him to interfere. “Bucky. Stand down.”

“I really don’t wanna,” he grumbled, his fist wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“Only I can answer the challenge, Buck,” you murmured, dropping your cloak beside his.

“Baby?” Steve whispered.

You could feel his fear but also his confidence in your skill. “I’ll be fine, _sjelevenn_.”

“Ah, yes. Your unmarked _sjelevenn_ ,” Medina sneered. “Maybe I’ll take him as my consort after I kill you.”

Eira gasped in outrage, but you only smiled and pressed up on your toes to kiss Steve square on the mouth. “Be right back.”

“Kick her ass, darlin’,” Steve growled.

You smirked and turned to stride toward Medina. “I’m so confident of my success, Medina. I shall fight you… with my eyes closed.”

She scoffed, then snorted, but you only drew your sword and closed your eyes.

“You’re not serious?”

“As a bullet,” you snarled, jerking Loki’s dagger from your boot. “I will give you one chance to withdraw gracefully. If you decline, I will soundly kick your ass and strip you of your title. You will be dropped down to the lowest rank, barely above a maiden, and tasked with overseeing the removal of the manure from the stables. This is your one warning.”

“And when I kill you, I won’t just take your _sjelevenn_ but that _male_ you claim as your guard. What kind of Valkyrie are you, choosing a _man_ over a woman?”

You struck, a half dozen blows which left behind shallow cuts to showcase your skill before your sword rang off hers when you brushed it aside and pressed your dagger to her throat. “I’m the fucking queen! Yield or I will have your life in payment for your insubordination!”

Medina’s sword fell to the ground with a clatter. “That’s… not…”

“So fast,” Eira whispered.

“That’s not fast,” Bucky snorted. “That’s play time.”

You ignored them in favour of opening your eyes to stare down the woman of olive skin and midnight dark hair. “You ever disrespect the King or me in that way again; I will kill you.”

She sank to her knees, your dagger never wavering from her throat. “Forgive me, my queen.”

“Forgiveness is earned.” You stepped back and returned the dagger to your boot. “I am highly unimpressed,” you stated, sweeping your gaze down the line of women. “When I arrive tomorrow, I expect my Valkyrjur will be _properly_ attired! Return to the Valley and do not disappoint me again!” The tip of your sword touched the street sending a wave of power rolling through the ground.

“Your majesty.” A woman of middle years stood a little shakily to bow. “With my utmost respect, Medina is not wrong in one thing. You cannot choose a,” she raked her eyes over Bucky, “man to protect you.”

“Your name?”

“Ama, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

Another tall, heavily built woman, she had dark skin and short cropped hair. Her arms were scarred, marks gained during training rather than battle, but still ones of combat. She at least wore a form of armour, breastplate and breeks, though they were the black of training garb, not white as they should be for such a moment.

“Well, Ama. If you think him incapable, try him.” You threw Bucky a grin he readily returned.

“I wouldn’t want to damage your… pet, majesty.”

“The fuck! Did she just call me a pet?” Bucky sneered.

“That she did, Buck,” Steve smirked. “Should we start calling you the Winter Puppy now?”

“Bite me, Steven. C’mon, girly. Let’s get this over with.” Bucky rolled his shoulder and sauntered toward you, eyeing Ama the entire time.

“Did he just call me… _girly_?” the woman asked, staring at you in disbelief.

You shrugged, sheathed your sword, and made your way back to Steve’s side to sling your arm around his waist. “Winter Puppy,” you snickered.

“Don’t tell Sam,” Steve chuckled.

Bucky sent you both a glare and turned his attention back to the woman standing before him. “First to the ground, or first blood, my queen?” he asked.

“To the ground.” You nodded to him.

Ama didn’t let him set himself, attacking without warning, but it was Bucky. No one got the drop on him, not in a very long time, and when Ama swung the staff she’d retrieved from her mount, Bucky was already in motion. He’d trained with the Dora Milaje, and it showed when he stepped inside Ama’s reach and punched her in the stomach.

It was a pulled punch, but she still grunted and stumbled back in surprise. “You hit me.”

“Yeah, dollface. I’m supposed to,” he snickered. From his side, Bucky pulled one of his ever-present blades and flipped it with remarkable ease into his palm. “C’mon. Try again.” He beckoned Ama forward.

She frowned, clearly unsettled, and approached with caution. She swung the staff, rolling it across the back of her neck. It came around, and she thrust it at his stomach, but Bucky reached out with his left, grasped the shaft, gave it a jerk, and pulled her forward. Off balance already, he swept Ama’s feet out from under her easily.

It all happened in seconds, so fast if you blinked you would have missed it, but Ama was disarmed, flat on her back, with Bucky holding a knife to her throat.

“We good?” Bucky asked.

“I… yield,” she said, her surprise evident.

He nodded and sheathed the blade to offer his hand. “You fight good, doll.”

“You were better,” Ama grumbled but accepted his assistance. “I have never seen a man move as you do.”

“You think this is something, just wait till you see him,” Bucky jerked his head toward Steve. “No one fights like he does.”

They all looked at Steve with curiosity who remained relaxed against your side. “If you’re satisfied, Ama, return to the valley. I charge you with informing the _Fullmakt_ of my decrees this day. I will speak with her regarding her… _changes_ when I arrive.”

“Yes, my queen.” Ama bowed and pressed a fist to her heart.

The group of eight bowed and left swiftly, their pegasi rising to the wing with a hard push of strong legs.

“Can’t even get in the goddamn door,” you muttered, only for Steve to laugh and pull you into his frame.

“You did so good though! Damn, baby. Amazing!” He kissed you hard and swung you in a circle.

“Steve!” you laughed. “Put me down.”

“What an exciting return,” Loki snickered. “Two fights on the steps of the palace only moments after you arrive. I had forgotten what fun you caused, Sváfa darling.”

“Shut it, Loki,” you huffed. When Steve finally put you down, you made your way toward Thor and bowed your head. “I beg forgiveness, King Thor for the rudeness of my people. Too long have I been away if such thoughts and actions are considered acceptable.”

He took you by the shoulders and pulled you in for a tight hug. “You will straighten them all out, (Y/N). Of this, I have no fear. Come, friends! We will see you settled, outfitted, and tonight we will feast as only Asgard can!”

Steve stood waiting while you returned to Hemme’s side, urging the pegasus to go with the stable boy and be looked after, Eira doing the same with her steed.

The big black-eyed the smaller grey pegasus before shaking his mane and whickering a quiet greeting the grey returned. Hemme dragged the poor boy along when he trotted over to blow a breath against the grey’s nose. The horsey greeting made you smile, for it appeared Hemme had made a friend when the grey reached out and scratched his teeth on Hemme’s shoulder.

“What's a _ledsager_?” Bucky asked retrieving his cloak from the ground while eyeing Eira.

“A companion. One who sees to the trivialities of my day, maintains my schedule, and stays at my side. In the past, Bryn-Brynhildr held that place as well as being my guard, but something about her,” you nodded toward Eira, returning with your helmet, “tugs at me. Loki?”

The God of Mischief tilted his head. “I will watch.”

“Thank you.” He was impossible to lie to. Knowing he would vet the girl gave you peace of mind.

Steve returned your cloak to your shoulders. “You did good with your improv,” he whispered in your ear.

You smiled up at him. “You liked that, did you?”

“It was impressive,” he agreed.

Tapping your talons on his chest, you gave him a coy grin. “Yeah?”

He chuckled and snuck his hand beneath your cloak to palm your ass. “Yeah, baby.”

“Keep it in your pants, Cap. Least until you're behind closed doors,” Bucky snickered.

“Don't forget to keep your knees together, Barnes,” you teased and motioned Eira closer. “C’mon. We won't bite.”

“Depends on who you ask,” Loki muttered.

“My queen.” Eira bowed.

“(Y/N) is fine, Eira,” you said, striding after Loki and the others when Thor and his entourage headed up the stairs, a separate group from your own.

You knew Sif. She'd been to Earth more than once with Thor, but the Warriors Three were new to you. They'd come into Thor’s circle of influence between your second and third life, neither of which you'd lived very long. Introductions had been made on the Bifröst, Volstagg grinning and nodding, Hogun stoic but welcoming, and Fandral flirted until Steve stepped between you and crossed his arms.

Fandral had chuckled and backed off, but not before requesting a dance with you at tonight's feast. One you neither agreed to nor denied.

Eira frowned. “But… you are Sváfa, are you not?”

You followed the retreating Asgardians. “I am, but (Y/N) is my birth name. I prefer it from those closest to me.”

“And am I to be… close to you?” she asked hesitantly.

“That remains to be seen,” answered Bucky for you.

Eira blushed when she glanced at him. “Do you always speak for the queen?”

“No, but my soldiers are protective, and in this case not wrong. We will discuss it behind closed doors, Eira,” you added when she made to ask another question.

Out of nowhere, Steve handed you a pair of sunglasses. “Put them on.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, the darkness soothing some of the throbbing behind your eyes. As Steve was squinting slightly, you assumed he was feeling the same discomfort.

Loki’s hand caressed your hair and relieved the headache. “Next time, Captain, just ask.”

“I will.” Steve nodded his thanks.

Again the trip from entrance to rooms took longer than expected, the grandness of the palace, the enormity of it all, took Steve and Bucky by surprise. Even Eira walked along in quiet amazement. You, of course, had seen it before but there had been changes, some big, some subtle.

Eventually, you made it to the guest wing, Loki and Thor, sans the Warriors Three but with Sif at his side, showed Bucky the room directly across from your shared suite with Steve, while Eira, unexpected as she was, would be housed down the hall.

It worked, and she nodded her thanks, but everyone followed you when you headed into the enormous room with its spacious sitting room in golds and creams, and the fire burning brightly in the stone hearth.

“Now, Eira. Why are you here?” you asked bluntly as you removed your cloak, and sword belt. They both got tossed on a chair before you sank down on a second one.

Steve’s gear followed, Bucky’s cloak too, but both men kept their weapons where they were.

“I…” Her face paled and hands linked together when she started to fidget, her gaze darting around to all of the faces staring at her. Then, she swallowed her fear, straightened her spine, and lifted her chin. “I became a Valkyrie because I believed in what we stood for. But… we no longer follow the old ways. We are not what we once were. The thoughts of Medina and disrespect she showed the King are commonplace. Many think we should be,” she glanced at Thor who nodded, encouraging her to continue, “ruling Asgard.”

Bucky snorted, Sif stiffened, but you remained calm. “So why are you here, Eira? Clearly, you still follow the old ways. Your honour seems intact. You could have declined when Gunborg chose to send you to me, as you should have, as all the maidens should have. What did you hope to gain coming here? Did you think I would pick you because of the compassion you showed Loki?”

She shook her head. “No, my queen.”

“Then why? The truth if you please. Lying won’t help you.” Loki stood at your back, his hand on your shoulder, ready to give it a light squeeze if Eira lied.

Something about her seemed to crumble and break when she stumbled two steps forward to fall to her knees. “I'm kin of your kin.”

“What?” you gasped, jerking back in your seat.

“Kin of your kin,” she whispered, tears sliding down her face. “Descended through your father’s brother’s line. I'm kin of your kin, and I've waited my whole life for you.”

You stared at her in disbelief. “That's… that's not possible. The line of Berserks had no female children.”

“Only you through Tove, and then me, though my mother was no Valkyrie.”

She looked up, and you could see the desperate hope you would believe her written on her face.

“Loki?”

“She speaks the truth.”

“They thought I was you,” Eira said. “When you hadn't been reborn in so long, and then I was born, a girl to the line… the Berserkers, they thought I was you. I was taught your life, everything about you. The Valkyrjur has been deteriorating for some time, and they’d grown suspicious, but it is impossible to infiltrate the Valkyrjur without a worthy female warrior. When I was born, they rejoiced, believing you had finally come back to set right what was wrong, but when I finished my training, and the temple searched my soul, they found I had lived no life before this one. My soul was new. But I knew you were coming. I could feel it!” she said harshly, slamming her fist to her heart. “I knew I would see this day and when you came, I would gladly hand you my sword because you are Sváfa, daughter of Tove, the rightful Queen of the Valkyrjur. Now, to see you arrive bearing that,” she pointed at Freyja’s helm, “I am more certain than ever.”

With a swift jerk, she had her sword out and stretched across her palms. “My life for yours, my queen. I may be unblooded, but my heart is all Valkyrie.”

You could hardly believe it. Never in your wildest imagination could you have dared dream up this. It choked your throat and set your heart pounding.

“(Y/N)?” Steve murmured, taking and squeezing your hand.

“Sister kin. I never dreamed… sister kin,” you whispered, reaching forward to lay your hand on her sword. “Everyone else had others of their family, but never me.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve said. “I thought you said you were the only woman ever born with the power, not that you were the only woman born to your clan.”

“Not my clan, my line. The royal line of the Berserkers. I was the only woman born to my line, but we always assumed it was because my mother was Tove, a Valkyrie born of a Valkyrie, born of a Valkyrie. Her line was royal and went back through the ages, always birthing a daughter. My father’s line had always birthed sons until me. His throne would have passed to his brother as he had no children but me, which would make Eira...” You looked at her in amazement.

“I was the princess of the line, the youngest born to my father,” she nodded. “We never forgot you. We’ve waited for you to return. And now you’re here!” she half laughed, half sobbed. Her sword fell to the floor when she grasped your hand. “Where have you been?”

It was a loaded question, one you knew it would take time to answer. “I have questions for you too, Eira. I think everyone better get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

“I will see about having food and drink delivered,” Thor said only for Loki to snort and wave a hand.

“Take a seat, brother. I’m not feeding Volstagg, so it is not a burden.”

You chuckled with Loki’s words and tugged Eira up with you when you got to your feet and embraced her. “Welcome, sister kin. It is good to meet you.”

“(Y/N),” she whispered, eyes closing in relief when she hugged you back.

You set her away from you and smiled. “Come. We have much to discuss.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, fluff  
> Song: If I Didn’t Have You by Amanda Marshall

## Chapter Seven

* * *

Steve stood with Thor and Bucky off to one side as they waited for his girl to meet them. After the impromptu meeting with Eira, Sif, and Thor, it was clear they had their work cut out for them.

The Valkyrjur was deteriorating from the inside out according to Eira. Valkyries fought amongst themselves, disregarded the old ways and traditions, and were not the mighty, uncontested warriors they had once claimed to be. Those in power were slowly corrupting everything that made the Valkyrjur good and pure and right. There were rumblings of discontent — traitorous, treasonous murmurings which didn’t sit well with his girl.

He could feel her now, so much more. The anger and rage which burned through her and soured her stomach set his rolling as well. Her disbelief and then happiness at learning Eira was one of her own, family in a time when she thought she had none, had sent his heart leaping in joy. And when Eira had sat and unloaded all she knew of what was happening within the halls of the Valkyrjur, he’d felt the heavy weight of despair settle in her chest.

He’d perched on the edge of her chair and ran his hands through her hair, playing with the braids, beads, and feathers. It soothed her, his touch, and helped ground her in the now. She was not alone in this coming fight. There was a host of them standing with her.

Once Eira finished, Y/N had stood and walked to the wall of windows which looked out over Asgard. No one spoke, no one offered counsel. They all waited to see what she wanted to do.

“Lady Sif, if you are willing, I would make you Asgard’s ambassador. As a woman, you can come and go from the halls without issue. I need someone I can trust to get information to Thor when required.”

“As long as Thor agrees, it would be my honour,” Sif nodded.

“It will keep Loki from winding up in the dungeons again,” Thor snickered.

“I have my assignment,” Loki murmured.

“Yes, you do,” Y/N agreed. “Find him, Loki. Find Garry, Connor, whatever the fuck his name is and finish what you started.”

Steve had never heard her voice so cold before, but then he’d never felt the emotions she carried in regards to the man who’d taken her sight from her before either.

“That prick’s still alive!” Bucky snapped.

“He did not escape the pit,” Loki sighed. “He had assistance. I have yet to figure out from who. I will find him, Y/N. He cannot fool me with his illusions.”

“He doesn’t escape a second time, Loki. Find him, get what we need, and be done with it. No more games,” she demanded.

“I swear it, _lillesøster_.” Loki bowed his head.

“Eira?”

“My queen?”

“Who can we trust?”

“There are several I would trust with my life. Four are Valkyrie, the rest maidens, as disillusioned as I was by… the state of our home.”

Eira looked so disgusted, Steve felt for her. He’d once had the same feeling about SHIELD when the revelations about Hydra had come to light.

“Why are you still a maiden?” Y/N asked. “You are well past the age of one who should be blooded.”

In her early twenties, Steve would have considered Eira still young, but knowing Sváfa had collected her first soul at sixteen, Eira’s age was an oddity. The woman bowed her head in shame, her braids like wheat with how they were plated but darker, like freshly turned earth fell forward past her face. “The _Fullmakt_ decreed it so. She said I was… unworthy.”

“Why?” Y/N asked, turning to face her.

“When the time of choosing came, she said the soul I chose was… wrong.” The woman turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. “There was something wrong with it. My ability is skewed.”

“Eira. Come here.” Y/N held out her hand and motioned the girl closer.

Steve watched as Eira approached and took his wife’s hand. Y/N leaned closer and whispered something he couldn’t catch in the woman’s ear. Eira ran her eyes over the group, frowned, and shook her head. Y/N whispered something else that had Eira’s eyes widening in shock.

“Really?” the woman gasped.

“Really. When this is finished, _I_ will go with you and all the maidens who are ready, and we will choose.”

The clank of breastplates colliding had Steve biting back a laugh when Eira threw her arms around his wife.

“Thank you! I was so afraid…”

“There is nothing wrong with your sight. There is something wrong with the _Fullmakt_.” Y/N patted her back. “But we will speak on that later. For now, it is enough. I have much to consider. Thor, if you'd be kind enough to see Steve and Bucky outfitted, I'd be grateful.”

“I should return to the valley and collect proper attire for tonight,” Eira murmured.

“I will see to the maiden,” Loki smirked.

“I'm not afraid to stab you, your highness,” Eira muttered, making them all laugh.

“She definitely shares your blood, Sváfa darling,” Loki chuckled and headed for the door. “Come along, little Valkyrie.”

Steve frowned when Bucky stiffened as if he would protest Eira leaving with Loki, but he quickly relaxed when he turned to glower at Y/N.

“Ain't I supposed to be watching your back?” Bucky protested leaving.

“Lady Sif and I have a few things to discuss, and if I know Loki, my dress for the evening is in there.” She flicked her fingers toward the bedroom. “We’ll join you for dinner.”

“Y/N is perfectly safe here,” Thor assured them.

That was roughly four hours ago, and now Steve was growing anxious. He didn't like being apart from her this long. Add in his… unique new ability and - as Y/N would put it - he was wigging out a little.

“Fear not, Captain.” Thor patted him on the shoulder. “Your lady will be here soon. Women always take their time.”

Steve tugged at his tunic and wished it was a few inches longer. With the tight leather pants, he was slightly more on display than he was used to. He remembered Peter and Shuri talking about cosplaying. This to him felt very much like that. Both he and Bucky had been measured and fitted for _proper_ clothing, something which would have them fitting in on Asgard, but Steve still found it surreal.

The heavy blue brocade jacket with its gold braiding, the belted vest over the embroidered under tunic, the leather pants and knee-high boots, along with the sword which hung from his hip had Steve wondering if he’d stumbled into some kind of Alice in Wonderland moment. Then he looked at Bucky and knew it was all real.

Bucky’s leathers were black from his throat to the toes of his boots. Initially, Steve had worried it was a little too Winter Soldier, but once they’d handed him gloves, bracers, belts, shoulder guard, and knee-high boots, he could tell Bucky was okay. The glee on his friend when Bucky started adding back in his weapons, blades to his boots, belts, and forearms, long wicked looking daggers to the sheaths he strapped to his thighs, and his sword to his hip, was nearly palatable. The only issue came when the arm ring Freyja had created would no longer fit beneath his tunic, but with a little finagling, Bucky shifted it to his wrist where he squeezed the ring and locked it comfortably in place on the exterior of his glove.

“Stop fidgeting. You’ll give yourself an ulcer,” Bucky grumbled.

“Still feels… strange.” Steve crossed his arms to stop tugging at things and ran his thumb over the ring on his right hand.

In the process of getting them sorted, a messenger had arrived care of Odin with a small carved box. Inside was a note explaining the ring was the signet worn by Hurgid not the one worn by the last Kings of Sváfaland. Made of heavy gold, a deep blue square cut sapphire engraved with the crest of his kingdom, that of a wing with a stylistic ‘S’, now graced his hand.

It felt… weird. One of Thor’s people had called him, “Your grace,” and Steve hadn’t known who the man was talking to until Thor had chuckled and explained Steve was still getting used to his title.

“And I can’t get an ulcer,” Steve muttered.

“You sure?” Bucky teased.

Steve threw him a condescending look. “Considering I used to have an ulcer? Yeah, jerk. I’m sure.”

“Little punk,” Bucky snickered.

“Asshat,” Steve muttered.

“Dick face.”

“Bitch.”

“Tool.”

Steve chuckled. “Don’t make me embarrass you in front of all these people.”

“Bring it on, _Steven_ ,” Bucky snickered.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, _Buchanan_.”

“Jeez, Steve! Really?” Bucky huffed.

“You said to bring it. Consider it brought,” Steve smirked.

Bucky stood slowly to his feet. “Thor, hold my sword.”

“Now, gentlemen. We are all friends here, and as much as we Asgardians enjoy a good brawl at a feast, we usually like to be three or four casks of ale in before we start something,” Thor said, grinning as he stepped between them. “At least wait until you can blame your behaviour on an abundance of drink.”

“And what behaviour would that be?”

The voice of his girl had Steve turning around only to stare in amazement. “Damn,” he breathed.

Her white dress bared one shoulder while the other, covered in golden feathers, had a white cape falling from it. She moved toward him with long strides, each one baring her leg to the thigh as well as her matching golden shoes. The feathers and ornaments had been removed from her hair because her crown was now back on display.

“Not so bad yourself, Captain,” Y/N chuckled, tracing her fingers down the sword belt across his chest before wrapping her fingers around the hilt. “Or should I say, _your grace_?”

“Don’t start.” Steve shook his head and ran his fingertip along her exposed collarbone to the chain which held her pendant and gave it a gentle tug. “No talons this time?”

“Not with this dress,” she smiled and leaned in for a kiss he was happy to grant.

Once he broke from her lips, only then did he look past her to see the elegantly attired Sif in a dress which still resembled armour, and Eira, who was turned slightly away speaking with the warrior. Eira’s black dress was backless, but strings of jewels draped across the opening, and a wide choker wrapped her throat. She looked lovely as well.

“Seems Loki did a good job with you both,” Steve smiled.

“I would think so, Captain,” Loki quipped, appearing out of nowhere.

“Question?” Bucky murmured, a bit of a frown on his face. “You two look… a lot different than the other women we’ve seen.”

Y/N laughed and stepped away from Steve to tug on the collar of Bucky’s tunic. “We’re Valkyrie, Bucky. We wear what we like. This is tame compared to the Halls of Valhalla.” She looked Bucky over and smirked a little grin. “Not bad, Barnes.”

“Dollface, I make this look good,” he chuckled.

She laughed and patted Bucky’s chest. “Just remember to keep your knees together, Bucky.”

Thor laughed and slapped Bucky a hearty pat to the spine. “Come, friends! It is time to feast!”

Thor headed into the hall with Loki and Sif hot on his heels, Steve offered his wife his arm and followed, but noticed the blush which filled Eira’s cheeks when Bucky did the same. It appeared the woman might have a little crush, though when Bucky smiled at her and complimented her dress, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like, one swell looking dame, he thought the feeling might be mutual.

“People of Asgard!” Thor bellowed a few feet into the room. “Today we welcome home Sváfa, Queen of the Valkyrjur!” Cheers and the thudding of many feet filled the room, but Thor held up his hands for silence. “But today we are twice blessed, for not only has she returned with her _sjelevenn_ , my good friend Steve Rogers, the Captain America of our Midgardian Avengers, but he returns to us as the true heir of Hurgid, King of Sváfaland!”

Steve wished he could crawl under a rock at that moment when all eyes turned to him, but he lifted his chin and nodded his head in acceptance. He was used to the limelight, just not like this. This _king_ thing came with expectations he still wasn’t clear on.

“Don’t worry, Steve,” Y/N murmured, lightly squeezing his arm. “Thor knows you’re not interested in ruling a portion of Asgard.”

“We need to talk about a few things,” he said close to her ear when the people in the hall gave a second loud cheer.

She looked up at him with a slight frown, but nodded and followed Thor when he made his way to the head table. She took the seat to Thor’s left, Steve sat next to her, then Bucky and Eira rounded out their end while the Warriors Three, Loki, and Sif took the spaces to Thor’s right.

From there it was a whirlwind of food and drink, servers and questions as they all filled plates and the feast got underway. Steve took in the hall with its long tables. The space was enormous requiring tall, fat pillars of stone to keep the roof up. Chandeliers the shape of boats hung above each table. People laughed and generally celebrated joyfully, eating and drinking their fill.

“What did you need to talk about?” Y/N asked quietly from behind her cup of ale.

Steve leaned closer, his hand skimming her wrist. “When you see a person’s soul, what’s it look like?”

She frowned. “Depends on the person. Why?”

“I think… I’m seeing them, and I don’t know how to turn it off,” he murmured.

Her eyes were huge. “What?”

“White for the most part. Some are bigger. Some are other colours. I don’t know what it means, and yet, somehow I do. It’s kind of giving me eye strain,” Steve sighed.

“Steve, you should have said something earlier,” she scolded gently.

“Wasn’t sure it was something we wanted everyone knowing about,” he murmured.

She nodded slowly, understanding seeming to hang in the air between them. “No, you’re right. This is best kept between us. Close your eyes,” she whispered. “Concentrate on focusing on my face, my physical features rather than my spiritual ones, and build it in your mind. Make it as detailed as possible, and when you’re ready, open your eyes.”

Steve took a moment to picture her perfectly before cracking his eyes open and sighing in relief. “Thank you.”

Y/N caressed his face and urged him closer to lightly kiss his lips. “You’re welcome, _sjelevenn_. And just so you know, you look sexy as fuck like this… _your grace_.”

“I could say the same of you, my queen,” he smirked and looked her over. “Just stunning.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” she giggled and sipped from her cup.

The look she gave him over the rim had his pants growing uncomfortably tight. “I missed you today.”

“I was only gone a few hours.”

“Still missed you.”

Her smile softened. “I missed you too.”

“You two are so fucking sappy,” Bucky chuckled.

“Are you ever going to stop eavesdropping?” Y/N huffed.

“I’m a spy. How do you think I know everything I do?” he laughed.

“A spy?” Eira asked, drawing Bucky’s attention.

“And an assassin,” Bucky murmured. “As well as a few… other things.”

“I have never seen anyone fight as you do. It was impressive. For a man,” Eira smiled to show she was only teasing.

“I think my cousin may have a little crush,” Y/N whispered just loud enough for Steve to hear.

He glanced her way. “Would that be a problem?”

“No,” she smiled. “I think it’s cute. Though…”

“What?” Steve asked.

“If she has a _sjelevenn_ , I don’t want Bucky to be hurt if…”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, remembering what it was like when he thought she had someone else out there for her. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“It’s tough because if she doesn’t, they could be happy together. I’d hate to stick my nose in and ruin something that could be good. Bucky deserves to be happy.”

“And maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves and all they will be is friends,” Steve chuckled.

“Probably,” she snickered. “I really like her, though. She’s sweet.”

“What did you say to her earlier? When you asked her about still being a maiden?”

“I asked her to pick out the one person in the room who wasn’t worthy of Valhalla. She couldn’t do it. That’s when I revealed you were all worthy. There is nothing wrong with her sight. The more I learn of this _Fullmakt_ , the more I dislike her.”

“She’s a Valkyrie?”

“Traditionally, yes. Usually, she’s appointed by me before my death. Then within a century or two, I would be reborn with maybe one other Fullmakt holding the throne after her. It makes the transition of the throne back to my hands easier when they know I am coming.”

“But this time there’s been ten? Eleven?”

“Something like that,” she nodded. “And with my absence comes all this… distention in the ranks. Valkyries thrive on continuation and repetition. They need the stability of regulations, rules, and traditions to keep them occupied. From what Eira had to say, it sounds like much of that has broken down. Without it, they’re bored, anxious, and moody, but until I can ascertain just how bad it is, how much of our traditions and ways have been allowed to fade into the past, I won’t know how to fix it.”

“You kind of make them sound like unruly teenagers,” he chuckled.

“You’re not wrong. The inactivity will drive them to release their energy toward the first thing they’re pointed at. If what Eira says is true and someone is riling them up against Thor, spouting the same bullshit as Medina, then it’s quite possible there could be an uprising.”

Steve stared at her in shock. “So… what’s next?”

“I see how bad it is, reinstate our traditions, work their asses to the bone until they’re too exhausted to do anything, and then I make examples of the ones who are instigating them.”

A frown marred Steve’s forehead. “You don’t mean… kill them?”

“Only if I must. Gunborg, if she’s the problem, will not go quietly. And if it is her, her _sjelevenn_ bond will need to be broken for she will only come back and try again.”

He gaped at her in horror. “But I thought… what Loki said!”

She shook her head. “No! No, nothing like that! The bond can be broken but only by the temple. Our memories, our lives, are stored there for safekeeping, returned to us when our training is complete by those priestess’s who are trained in such things. In Gunborg’s case, the memories of her past lives with her _sjelevenn_ would be erased. The next time she was reborn, it would be as if her soul were new. Then, should she meet her _sjelevenn_ , their journey would begin again as if this was their first life together.”

“Oh, I see.” It was harsh, but he could see why it would need to be done.

“It’s a last resort. I would hope she would come to see the error of her ways, but…” She shrugged. “We’ve never gotten along.”

“Why?” He’d wondered for a while but hadn’t had a chance to ask.

“She was the _Fullmakt_ who’s ass I kicked when my mother died.”

“Ouch,” Steve murmured.

“It was a sound beating. Swift and thorough. She didn’t take it well. When everything went down with the _Sjeletyv_ , Gunborg had just found her _sjelevenn_. Once we figured out what they were, I forced her to return to Asgard. She was one of the first, but I knew if one of those things got their fangs in her soul, it could be very very bad. But she felt special being one of the blessed. Then when it was all said and done I came home and found you, and you were, well, kind of amazing,” Y/N smirked, “Gunborg didn’t feel so special anymore. She’s been holding a grudge ever since.”

“Shouldn’t all _sjelevenn_ be special?”

Y/N smiled and patted his cheek. “You were the heir apparent of a kingdom. He was a goat herder. Your prowess with a sword was renowned. He had never picked up a weapon. There was a large and distinct difference.”

“Ah,” Steve chuckled.

“And you were prettier,” she quipped.

“Still am,” he teased.

She laughed and grinned broadly at him. “Yes, you certainly are.”

***

Hours later, Steve had the passing thought he _might_ have had too much to drink when, after an intense debate with Thor about whether or not Mjolnir had shifted the time he’d tried to lift it, Steve found his lap full of silk-clad female. It made him blink and startle because the woman who’d planted herself in his lap wasn’t his wife, and he was at a loss of how to get her out of his lap without having to put his hands on her scantily clad form.

Music thudded heavy and deep. Everyone’s blood was up with both the tempo and the drink. While many a woman had sent him an appreciative glance, no one had been so brazen as to walk up and plop themselves in his lap as she had.

He figured the only reason she’d done so was because Y/N and Eira with Bucky in tow, had left to use the facilities. Now, he was faced with a bundle of brunette and gaped from her to Thor who looked equally as shocked.

“Your grace,” she purred. “You haven’t danced yet. May I offer myself for consideration?”

Steve held his hands away from her body, finding the idea of touching her even to get her off him suddenly revolting and jerked to his feet, sending the woman tumbling to the ground between himself and Thor. “That would be a no!” he snapped, anger filling him at the audacity.

She picked herself up slowly, and Steve could tell she too had imbibed too much in the casks of wine and ale. Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off when a streak of white and gold came over the table a dead run. Not around it, but over it.

Standing on top of the table, Y/N had the girl by the hair. Bent over, she snarled nastily in the woman’s face, “Why are you touching my _sjelevenn_?”

Fear filled the woman’s eyes as she stared up in horror at the Valkyrie Queen in all her raging glory. Where she pulled the blade from, Steve had no idea, but when Y/N dragged the flat of the cold steel down the woman’s cheek, it sent an irrational shot of heat rushing south to Steve's loins.

“They call what you were doing _poaching_ on Midgard. Do you know what happens to poachers on Asgard?”

“Yes, your majesty,” the woman whispered.

“If you leave right now and stay out of my sight until I return to the Valkyrjur, I will be content to let this incident slide, or stand here and suffer my wrath,” Y/N growled.

A second hard thud of desire landed directly in his gut. Y/N flicked her gaze his way and smiled a sultry, sexy, seductive smile, and Steve knew she’d felt the hard kick too.

“I’ll leave!” the woman squeaked.

Y/N released the brunette with a shove and stood to her full height on the edge of the table. Thankfully the food had been removed, and she stood amidst cups and pitchers of drink, not in whatever the roast beast was they’d devoured earlier. But she looked the part of avenging Valkyrie; her legs bare with the thigh-high slits to either side of her dress, knife clenched she flicked her wrist and embedded the blade in the table between her feet.

“No one takes what a Valkyrie has claimed,” she snarled, glaring after the woman before turning her attention back to him.

Steve reached up and took her by the waist to bring her down from the table. “Baby,” he growled softly, dragging her tight to his body. “That was hot,” he murmured against her ear. He sat and pulled her down in his lap where he smirked at Thor.

She slipped her fingers inside his collars and up to lay lightly over the mark she’d left on him only days ago. “No one sits on my man but me,” she chuckled before glaring at Thor. “Your court has grown unruly.”

“Bah,” Thor huffed. “They are drunk, though I will admit that was… uncalled for.”

“She’s lucky I didn’t slit her throat,” Y/N grumbled.

Thor chuckled and excused himself when someone caught his attention, leaving Steve and Y/N cuddled together alone at the table.

“Have you always been so bloodthirsty?” Steve asked, stroking the bare expanse of her leg.

“Always,” she teased, a flush of drink and other things colouring her cheeks. “You looked pretty cute sitting here with your hands up, no idea what to do.”

Her nails scraped his skin and Steve fought not to shiver. “I didn’t want to touch her,” he admitted, shifting his girl to one thigh so he could turn her toward him. “Only wanna touch you,” he murmured, eyes locked on her lush mouth. “Only wanna kiss you.”

“Only me, Stevie?” she smirked and carded her fingers through his hair. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and full of desire.

He sank his hand into her hair. “Only you, baby girl. Wanna touch you all over. Strip you outta this dress and lick every inch of your skin.”

“That’s quite the visual… your grace,” she whispered, her smile wide before she nipped her teeth into his lower lip and gave it a pull.

“Dollface, don’t tease,” he growled, gliding his hand down to grip her pert bottom and pull her closer.

“You gonna dance with me, Stevie?” she asked against his lips.

“Horizontally or vertically?”

She laughed and kissed him softly. “Why don’t we start with vertically and move on from there.”

He dragged her closer and ravaged her mouth, uncaring if people watched, having seen more than enough of the same behaviour tonight. Breaking only to breathe, Steve hummed when her heated skin and heavy breathing registered, but it was the way his mouth tingled which had him looking at her funny. “Does that always happen?”

“Every time you kiss me like that it does,” she chuckled.

“This is gonna take some getting used to,” Steve smirked and shook his head.

Y/N pushed to her feet and held out her hand. “Just wait until we get back to our suite, _sjelevenn_.” When he stood, she slipped her hand between them and gave his cock a gentle squeeze. “Such a powerful sharing doesn’t end with emotions. Add in our physical connection, and you’re in for a real… bang,” she snickered.

“Sweetheart, you’re playing with fire,” he growled.

“Oh, I certainly intend to, husband.” She smiled, and her eyes flashed with desire. She gave his collars a sharp tug which had him leaning closer. “Maybe we should skip vertical and sneak away while everyone is occupied elsewhere?”

“Baby, that’s a fantastic plan,” he chuckled and followed her out a side door, plucking his sword from the back of the chair as they left.

***

Bucky smirked when he caught sight of Steve and Y/N sneaking away. They were so damn sappy, and so damn in love, it was adorable.

“They are good together,” Sif murmured.

“You have no idea,” Bucky smiled, nodding when Sif chuckled and walked away.

“S-sergeant Barnes?”

He turned around and smiled at Eira. She was sweet and shy, and gorgeous. He’d about swallowed his tongue when she’d arrived with Y/N and Sif. But she was so young he felt old just standing beside her. “It’s Bucky, dollface. What you need?”

“Um… would you like… to dance?”

She had pretty hazel eyes, and her apple cheeks were a bright pink while she stood there playing with her sleeve, adorably shy. It tugged at his heart, and he held out his hand. “Sure, darlin’. But I’m not familiar with this kind of music.”

“Oh… well.” Her cheeks darkened. “Never mind then.”

“Hey, now.” Bucky grabbed her hand. “I didn’t say I couldn’t figure it out.”

She smiled up at him, and there was such emotion in her eyes he was momentarily taken aback. Then it cleared, and she was just a beautiful woman leading him by the hand out into a writhing sea of bodies.

Then the music changed and slowed, turned dark and sexy, and he drew Eira closer. Her hands went to his shoulders as his wrapped her waist, and they swayed together, a gentle back and forth.

“So… a princess, huh?” he asked.

“I was. We denounce our positions when we apply to the Valkyrjur. Though I’m sure Father would reinstate me if I chose to leave.”

“With everything that’s happening, I don’t think Y/N would fault you if you did.”

She looked at him with hard eyes from behind narrowed lids. “I would never! She’s the one we’ve been waiting for. I would happily take a sword through the heart if it meant saving her life.”

Bucky frowned. “Don’t go doing nothing stupid. Neither Steve or I would ever let anything happen to her.”

“Do not get presumptuous. Just because you succeeded in defeating Ama doesn’t mean you will hold out against someone like Gunborg. She is First Rider, a position well deserved. She is without equal when it comes to the sword.”

“Look, dollface. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt Y/N on my watch. I’ve seen what our Queen can do when push comes to shove. Your Gunborg isn’t gonna know what hit her if she comes at Y/N. And after training with the Dora Milaje in Wakanda, you ladies ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“You compare the elite of Asgard to some Midgardian force?” she scowled.

“Don’t knock it, sweetheart. I’d pit and pick Okoye over any Valkyrie besides Y/N.”

An angry flush lit her cheeks and flashed in her eyes. “We may not be what we once were, but to have you disparage my people like this is insulting!”

Bucky had his temper ignite as well. “Oi! You’re the one judging people you ain’t ever met. I’ve sparred with Y/N! I’ve watched her play fight the Hulk. I know _exactly_ what the best of your Valkyrie’s are capable of, and she _astounds_ me, but there are people on my planet just as capable, just as powerful, and just as honourable.” He pulled away from her. “Be careful the opinion of those you claim to stand against hasn’t skewed your perceptions, Eira. Thanks for the dance.”

He turned on his heel and made his way back to the table where he caught up his sword and headed for his room. He’d lost his appetite for celebrating.

“Bucky! Wait!”

He stopped but didn’t turn when Eira ran up to him.

“I… I’m sorry. We’re told so often we’re something special. Unique. The Elite of Asgard. When someone comes in and says, they’ve seen better, or know of better, it… stings.” She fidgeted with her sleeve again. “I am only a maiden, and I know I still have much to learn.”

Bucky sighed when he looked at her standing there, damn near wet behind the ears still. “Look, doll. We’ve both got jobs to do, important ones. This,” he held up his hand where the ring Freyja had made wrapped his wrist, “is the only thing I know here. Steve’s my brother. Y/N may be your queen, but she’s my brother’s wife. There ain’t nothing and no one I won’t go through to make sure she stays safe. A lot is going on here, too much, but every step of the way I’ve watched her rise up, take this shit storm by the balls, and fucking _squeeze_. She’s a goddamn miracle, and my top priority.”

“What… what are you saying?” Eira murmured.

She was a good five inches shorter than him when he leaned down to get in her face. “She’s putting a lot of faith in you, Eira. Don’t fuck it up. Cause if you do? I won’t hesitate to go through you and believe me. You don’t want to meet the Winter Soldier if you're on the wrong end of my knife.”

A quiet little gasp left her lips, but for once, Bucky couldn’t tell if it was from fear or something else and turned away to stalk down the hall. He knew what was at stake if they failed, what they would all lose, and nothing would stand in his way.

Not even a stunningly gorgeous maiden Valkyrie who tugged at his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, smut, smutty smut, NSFW, swearing  
> Song: You’re The One That I Want by Alex and Sierra (I love this version so much!)

## Chapter Eight

* * *

The soft glide of a tender touch skimming up your spine made you stretch and moan. Steve had barely let you get the door closed before he pinned you against it. Now his hands were tracing the curves and planes of your back, while his mouth worked the line of your bare shoulder.

Your body hummed in bliss, the pleasure of his soft touch seeming to radiate outward. Warmth bloomed beneath his fingertips. Tingles spread in the wake of his passing.

His hand drifted up to the shoulder of your dress and pushed it off, drawing the feathers of gold down your arm until the white fabric clung to your breasts. Then his hands were there, slipping beneath the silk to drag his thumbs over your nipples as he pushed the dress down, letting it pool around your ankles.

“Baby,” he groaned, both of his big hands gliding over your bare back to take handfuls of your naked ass. “You were commando this whole time?”

“The whole time,” you smirked at him over your shoulder.

He leaned into your spine, pressing you into the cold wood and metal of the door. The leather and brocade of his clothing shot tingles through your body when they rubbed your sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking sexy, and I’m gonna enjoy this immensely,” he growled against your ear.

A shudder wracked your body, anticipation and excitement rushing through you. “Am I gonna enjoy this immensely?” you smirked.

“Cheeky girl,” he chuckled and slapped your ass.

You giggled, stepped out of your shoes, and pushed back against him only to find yourself swept from your feet into strong arms. “I’m already yours, _sjelevenn_. You don’t need to sweep me off my feet.”

“The lip on you,” he snickered, striding across the room to push open the second set of doors and stumble to a stop. “Holy… shit! That’s a big bed!”

You laughed loudly and kissed his cheek. “They tend to grow the men big in Asgard. The beds reflect that.”

“Darlin’, you could fit three of me and two of you in that bed.”

“Think of it as room to _grow_ ,” you murmured and licked the shell of his ear.

Steve kicked the door shut with a bang. “If I grow any bigger I’m gonna tear through these pants,” he grumbled, striding toward the bed where he tossed you into the middle.

Bouncing once, you giggled and closed your eyes. In the low light of the bedroom, nothing but a small fire flickering in the hearth and a glimmer of moonlight through the windows, your returned eyesight was minimal, shadows within shadows only. But closed, you could see the layers of Steve’s jacket over his tunics. You could see the way his erection pressed so hard against the ties of his pants. The flush on his face spoke volumes, as did the pounding of his heart.

As it beat hard and fast, yours rushed to follow. He inhaled deeply when you caressed your own body, and you felt your lungs expand in kind. Cupping your breasts, you played with your nipples as he began to tug at his clothes.

“You gonna put on a show, dollface?”

“Do you want me to?” you smirked as you slid your hands down your stomach to teasingly pet your mound.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he grinned, throwing the heavy jacket over the end of the bed.

You hummed softly in amusement and let your knees fall open. Slowly you brushed your fingers over your wetness, you lips soaked, the smell of your arousal intense. Spreading yourself open, you lightly touched your aching clit, gently manipulating the little bud before slipping your middle finger down to dip into your opening.

Steve groaned and grabbed your wrist to bring that hand to his mouth. He sucked your finger between his lips and licked it clean before returning it to your core. “Continue.”

“As it please you, your grace,” you teased, running the wet digit over your hard jewel.

“Wench,” he snickered.

“Wench!” you gasped and snapped your knees closed. “Really, Rogers?” you growled and rolled to the other side of the bed.

He toed off his boots while struggling with the buckles on his outer tunic. “What? I can’t tease you?”

You knelt on the bed and crossed your arms over your breasts. “It’s _your majesty_ to you, fiend.”

“Fiend!” he gasped in mock offence.

“Perhaps brigand is more to your liking?”

“I’ll show you brigand,” he growled, finally just ripping all his upper clothing over his head when his patience ran out.

Wearing only those tight leather pants, Steve launched himself over the bed, wrapped his arm around your waist, and tossed you over his shoulder so he could turn and drop you back in the center of the enormous bed.

“Now, _wench_ , what are you gonna do about it?” he smirked, appearing devilish and smug.

“Why would I do anything when I’ve got you exactly where I want you?” you chuckled, curling your arms around his back and dragging your nails down his skin. The pleasure of the action tingled along your back when his enjoyment became yours. “Oh, wow,” you murmured, lashes fluttering with the bliss building in your body.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Steve chuckled. “I slapped your ass and felt it on my own. Weird, but in a good way.” He lowered his head to drag his lips over your collarbone. “I can feel how this feels for you. How much you like it.”

“Same,” you sighed, slipping your fingers into the waist of his pants to flex your nails into the curve of his ass.

Steve brushed his lips lightly over your throat as he stretched his body out, giving you his weight. He had one arm wrapped beneath you, but he used his opposite hand to tuck your hair back and lovingly cup your cheek. “I love you, baby doll, and I almost lost you today.”

“I know,” you whispered, the thought of what he’d done weighing heavily on you. “It’s dangerous, what you did.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he murmured, nuzzling your cheek. “I won’t let you go, Y/N. Not ever.”

“I feel you in my heart, Steven.”

“I feel you in mine,” he whispered, bringing his mouth to yours.

A quiet, gentle mating of mouths began. Soft, silky kisses, which evolved into a tangling of tongues. Still, there was no hurry, no need to rush. You wallowed in each other. Sank in and let the passion build slowly. Steve’s tongue twined and twisted with yours, explored and discovered the depths of your mouth. It was like he was mapping every response, able to feel precisely which spots gave you the most pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, panting at the lack of air, he shifted enough to begin the same thorough exploration of your throat. At your pulse point, he paused to suck and nip gently at your skin. A soft moan spilled from your lips, and you drew your nails up his back to clutch his shoulders.

“You taste so good, _min vakre skjoldpike_ ,” he crooned, his nose nudging your jaw.

“ _Sjelevenn_ ,” you moaned, the pleasure pouring through your body like thick molasses.

“We’re gonna take our time. We’ve got all night, and I did say I was gonna lick you all over.”

A whimper escaped your chest. A gasp followed when Steve licked the long line of your throat and placed a kiss in the hollow between your collarbones. Gently he caught the chain of your locket and gave it a pull to have it sliding down beside you on the bed. Then Steve pulled his arm from beneath you to press up on his palms. His mouth drifted down, tongue slicking, sliding, flicking over your skin; pressing sweet pecks and open-mouthed kisses to your flesh.

Languid and sensual, you basked in his care. Delighted in the love you could feel thrumming between you. The connection was so strong. You knew he ached just as you did, the need to be together, to renew the ties which bound you by joining your bodies and hearts as one.

“ _Jeg vil elske deg til slutten av våre dager_ *,” Steve murmured, his lips brushing the curve of your breast.

“ _For evig og alltid. I hvert liv_ ,*” you agreed, arching into his mouth when he closed his lips over your nipple.

His hands went to your ribs as he worshiped your breasts, maintaining the same slow, sweet cadence. The soft glide of his thumbs on your torso felt wonderful. You wanted to arch and writhe and squirm like a well-loved kitten.

You brought your palms to his chest and ran your fingers over the flexed muscles, teased his nipples, and lightly stroked his tight abs. Everywhere you touched, you could feel the bliss warm your skin as well. Feel how much he enjoyed your hands on his body. How hard he became when you gave the small brown buds of his nipples a soft tug.

“Steve, please,” you moaned, needing him so badly. “I don’t want to wait.”

He reached between you and jerked the ties on his pants, releasing his hard cock to lay heavily on your belly. You lifted your legs up, hooked your toes in his waistband and pushed his pants down around his ass.

“Fuck, that was kinda hot,” he chuckled.

“You’re really hot in these pants. The lack of underwear makes it all the sexier.” Who were you kidding? Steve breathed, and he was sexy.

“There seems to be a lack of it on Asgard, and my shorts rolled up in the pant legs,” he grumbled.

“Steven? Why are you still talking about your underwear?” you snickered, looking into his brilliant blue eyes. Even though the room was dim, his eyes, the colour of them, was pure and unfiltered.

He chuckled softly and caught your arms to pressed them into the mattress above your head. “You’re right, of course.” A slight tilt and shift of his hips had his thick, heavy shaft sliding over your wet folds.

You both groaned, the feeling unlike any you’d ever known; the pleasure doubled thanks to your new bond. Still, he insisted on teasing you both, running his length over your core, soaking his cock and tormenting your clit with each pass.

“Steve, _please_ ,” you whimpered, already feeling the coil tightening in your belly, again enhanced by the pleasure he was also feeling.

“Baby girl, this feels so damn good. I may lose it like a kid just gettin’ inside you,” he muttered, a shudder wracking his body.

“Go slow, _sjelevenn_. Real slow,” you moaned when his broad crown sank down against your opening.

He took a deep breath, held it, and pressed forward an inch at a time. It strung your body tight, every muscle clenching. Not only was he stretching you open, creating the incredible burn and bliss you always felt with him, but you could feel how amazing you felt to him. How hot and tight and wet you were on his engorged cock.

“ _Kan Nornene ta meg til hallen til Valhalla_!*” you screamed when it all became too much, and the rising tide of ecstasy swept you away. Gasping, panting, crying in awe and disbelief, you shook all over and clenched your hands into fists.

From a distance you could hear Steve’s inventive swearing in reaction before his forehead was lightly pressed to yours and his hands were skimming up your arms to force your fists open and link your fingers together.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he coaxed, his Brooklyn accent thick with emotion. “We’re gonna do this together, baby doll.” He rained kisses over your face and caught your lips a few times.

You could feel the control he was maintaining. Threadbare and fraying, he was holding out by will alone when you lifted your legs and wrapped them high around his waist.

“Go,” you whispered. “Don’t stop, Stevie. Don’t stop. I need you.” You chased his lips and finally caught them, kissing him with all the love in your heart.

A rumble of pleasure vibrated from his chest to yours. More joyous tears streamed from your eyes. Slowly Steve began to shift and move, rock his hips and stroke your walls, and send you moaning, whining, wailing with each hard jolt against the mouth of your womb.

Lost to the pleasure, Steve tucked his face against your throat, a constant stream of, “Fuck, baby,” falling from his lips in rapid succession as what rhythm he’d established failed and you became two bodies writhing together seeking the stars.

When the second orgasm built, bigger, stronger, brighter, you gripped Steve’s hands tightly, and your body bowed, growing tighter and tighter until all you could feel was the surge of his body through yours, the heat, the wet, the tight squeezing as you began to come. Then your walls clamped down, and you screamed louder than ever before. The pleasure bordered on pain, so close it skated the edge when Steve slammed his hips home and roared like a beast.

Another shockingly strong orgasm ripped through your belly, rolled like a wave up your spine and out through your limbs. The heat of Steve’s release warmed your insides, sent another bolt through you and left you gasping.

He groaned when your walls spasmed; you gasped feeling his pleasure.

It became like a vicious, beautiful cycle. Your pleasure would ripple through Steve, his would wash back through you, and soon he was hard and randy a second time, thrusting rapidly through your over sensitive walls, making you scream and beg, plead with him for harder, faster, more!

He was quick to oblige when he pulled away, dragged you up, and flipped you to your hands and knees. Then he was slamming home, driving through your walls like a man possessed. One desperate to feel the same heady, unbelievable, addictive pleasure a second time. Chasing an end which was approaching at a startling pace.

He laid a stinging slap to your ass cheek. “C’mon, baby! Come for me!”

Fire shrieked through you, burned you alive, made you raw and new and lifted you from the ashes when you tipped your head back and screamed a sound you didn’t know a human throat could make. Your vision, what little of if you had back, darkened around the edges as the pleasure of the act became more than you could handle, but you smiled when the monster roar of your well please _sjelevenn_ followed you into oblivion.

***

Minutes or hours later you couldn’t tell, you woke with a start to find yourself the little spoon to Steve’s big one. He held you close, but the light stroking of your arm showed he wasn’t asleep.

“Steve?”

“Mmm, baby. You back with me?”

You rolled your eyes. The man had never sounded so smug. “Was I out for very long?”

“Thirty minutes, maybe. Long enough for Bucky to pound on the door and let me know we were _too damn loud_ ,” he snickered.

“And did you explain about feedback loops?”

“Nah,” he chuckled. “I just told him I was that good.”

You burst out laughing. “Considering the noise you made? Maybe it’s me that’s just that good,” you teased.

Steve tightened his hold and nuzzled your shoulder. “Us, together. That’s what makes it so good.”

Wriggling a little, you turned over, and he rolled to his back, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and throw your leg over his thigh. “It was incredible. I’ve never felt anything so good before.”

“It drove me a little wild there at the end. I left bruises.”

“They’ll heal by morning. Besides, you know I love it.”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah, I do.”

Silence settled comfortably over the room, and you were drifting toward sleep again when he spoke.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N.”

“I know, Stevie.”

“I told Buck about seeing souls.”

“That’s fine, Steve. He’s not going to say anything.”

“I’ve got a weird feeling.”

That perked you up enough to look at him. “About?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. I think something big is gonna happen. I just don’t know what.”

You yawned and snuggled closer. “Long as it’s not Buck having feelings, we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s true,” Steve smiled.

“Go to sleep, _sjelevenn_. Tomorrow is a whole new day, and you’ll need your wits about you once we return to the Valkyrjur.”

Steve gave a little sigh and rubbed his hand down your bare spine. “Sleep well, wife.”

You smiled and placed a kiss on his chest. “I always do when I’m curled against you, husband.”

***

In the halls of the temple, a priestess hurried down a dark corridor to the end where she stopped and looked swiftly around. When no one moved, and not a sound registered, she placed her palm flat against a hidden rune and whispered a short incantation.

The passageway hidden behind the stones opened, and she hurried through into the tunnel beyond. Once the door shut firmly behind her, only then did she light the waiting torch and hurry down the narrow tunnel with its low ceiling.

It seemed to wind forever, but she continued on, striding with purpose toward her goal. As she approached the cavern at the end far beneath the temple, more torches lit her way, and finally, after what felt like miles, she walked into the brightly lit space.

“How is our patient doing?” she asked quietly, striding toward the small alcove with its pallet of furs from which a medicinal smell was coming.

“Getting more lucid. The slugs did a number on his mind.”

“Has he said anything of note?”

“Ramblings for the most part. He raves once in a while. Nothing of value.”

The priestess made her way into the alcove and sat at his bedside. A cloth sat soaking in a basin of water, and she wrang it out before wiping his brow and cleaning the sweat and toxins from his chest.

Suddenly, he surged up and shackled her wrist in a bruising grasp. “You deserve it!” he snarled. “You were supposed to be mine! Mine to command and control! My Valkyrie!”

“Who was?” the priestess asked calmly.

“You know,” he moaned and fell back to the furs. “Sváfa.”

“But you failed, clearly,” she hissed and pulled her arm away. “We practically gifted her to you, yet still you fail.”

“Never send a man to do a woman’s job,” her counterpart muttered.

“Hydra has always been a group of idiotic men playing at war,” the priestess sneered.

“They only ever got one thing right,” the woman muttered.

“Indeed,” the priestess smiled. “How nice of the Queen to bring him to us.”

“He won’t be easy to turn.”

“He’s a man. We will send _her_ , and he will fall at her feet. They all do.” The priestess made to stand only for the man to moan something. “What?”

“Serves you right… you blind bitch…” he murmured and slipped into unconsciousness.

Her brow arched in intrigue. “Blind?”

“She does have odd eyes,” the woman shrugged. “But she beat Medina with a half dozen strokes. The ones we sent say she is faster than lightning.”

“And a misfired arrow could easily remedy our problem. The spell is breaking. First with her returned memories, and again when she came through the barrier around Asgard.”

“You said coming through the barrier would kill her.”

“Clearly, I was wrong!” the priestess snapped. “I do not know what was done to see her whole, but I know Loki had something to do with it.”

“Well, whatever we do, we’d best do it quickly. If she enters the Halls, she’ll know something is amiss.”

“Then you must see she never makes it to the feasts in Valhalla.” Snatching up her torch, the priestess walked away.

* * *

 

Steve - *I will love you until the end of our days.

Y/N - *Forever and always. In every life.

Y/N - *May the Norns take me to the halls of Valhalla!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, smexy  
> Song: Raise Hell by Dorothy

## Chapter Nine

* * *

Steve woke with a jolt, his heart racing, and breath coming on short gasps. The dream had been far too vivid, a mixture of his Howling Commando days, Sokovia, and when Y/N had fought the ljå.

Everyone dead or dying, men screaming, his girl crying out for him to save her only to be impaled by that creatures claws. It left him shaken and sweating when he slipped from the massive bed to walk out into the other room where the fire still glowed in its grate.

He was wound up now. Antsy. Usually after something like this he would go for a run or beat the hell out of a few heavy bags, but here he was stuck without an outlet and walked out on the balcony in his shorts.

It was really flipping cold, silence his only company. That and the dual moons of Asgard. Here again, he shook his head in wonder and stared out at the slumbering city. Was it any wonder humanities early ancestors thought Asgardians were gods?

A soft hand landed on his back, but he didn't startle. With how hard his heart had been pounding, he figured he'd wake her but had hoped distance would make a difference.  Apparently not.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said as she slipped beneath his arm to press her naked body to his. “Baby! You can't be out here like that!”

“You're out here like this. Fair is fair, Rogers,” she teased.

“Sweetheart, no one cares if I'm wandering around in my shorts. You haven't got a stitch on. You'll catch your death!” He could already feel the gooseflesh rising on her arms.

“I assure you, sjelevenn. Many a woman would care quite a bit if they found you dressed like this on a moonlit evening,” she snickered. “But yes, I'm freezing my tits off out here. Come inside and tell me about it.”

She took him by the hand and led him inside. Closed the door and took him to bed. He couldn't help but admire her ass as she walked, and let her usher him back into the huge bed where she fussed and plumped pillows and dragged furs up around them after climbing in, scooting into a sitting position, and patting her chest.

“Come tell me all about it, baby.”

Steve chuckled softly but wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to cuddle and wrapped his arms around her waist as he rested his head on her chest. Her fingers ran through his hair, stroking gently, while the opposite hand traced patterns on his shoulder.

“Just a bad dream. Things get jumbled up sometimes. Old mixes with new to make all new nightmares.”

“Do you have them a lot?” she asked.

“Not usually. Not like after the ice.” He'd had them nightly for a while, finding it difficult to relate to this new reality.

She hummed softly. “Don't walk away if it happens again, Stevie. I could feel how upset and terrifying it was. You don't always have to be strong with me. You don't always have to be Cap. If you need just to be Steve and have a cuddle, that's okay too.”

He sighed and relaxed into her soothing touch. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling as she kissed the top of his head.

“My mom used to do that.”

“Yeah? Back when you were shorter?” she teased.

He chuckled a little. “Bucky used to use me as a leaning post.”

“I bet you were adorable, all grumbly and pouting.”

“Well, I've always seen adorable.”

“And so modest.”

“Hey!”

“I'm just teasing,” she laughed.

He rubbed his whiskers on her in retaliation. “I'm perfectly modest!”

“And so humble!” she giggled.

He yanked her down and rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed from wrists to thighs with his weight. “Say, Steve is a humble and modest guy.”

She giggled and bit her lip, but shook her head. “Nope.”

“Say it,” he growled menacingly.

“Steve is…”

“A humble and modest guy.”

“Steve is a… man in trouble!” she laughed, flipping him to his back, sending sheets and furs flying. “Now,” she snickered, “what were we talking about? Oh, right. Y/N is the greatest Avenger.”

Steve slowly stretched his arms up, dragging her higher on his chest. Her perfect breasts now dangled inches from his face. “Y/N,” he murmured and flicked his tongue over the nub of one nipple. “Is the greatest,” he licked the other, “Avenger,” he whispered and sucked her into his mouth. The warmth of her pleasure bloomed over his chest and rippled down his spine.

“Steve,” she sighed, her body going soft against his.

He rolled them back over easily. “You’re so pretty like that. All soft and warm and pliant.”

She arched and stretched beneath him, rubbing her silky smooth skin against his. “Steven,” she sighed again, wiggling her hands free of his grasp to slide them down his back and dig her nails in gently.

“Baby,” he purred against her jaw where he was lazily pressing kisses. “Want you again.”

“I always want you, Steve,” she whispered.

“Gonna love you real good, baby girl.” He kissed the corner of her mouth when she whimpered and ran his hand down her side to grab a handful of her ass.

“Big talker. Let’s see you prove it,” she snickered.

He chuckled even as he proved it.

***

“You are sure you do not want us coming with you?” Thor asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

You sighed but patted his arm. “I think it best you don’t. With what Eira had to say, it is better if you let us go alone. Having the King show up may inflame things. Give us a day. Let me make my assessment, then send Sif. I’ll give her my report and let you know if there is anything I need.”

“Well, I am going with you,” Loki stated and crossed his arms like a petulant child.

“No, you are not,” you said through gritted teeth. “I have a plan, Loki. You need to stick to it, and do your part.”

He pouted and turned his face away. “Fine, but if something happens to you, I will never forgive you.”

“Ugagn,” you sighed and punched him in the ribs. “Shut the hell up.”

He grunted, but it wiped the pout from his face when Loki smirked at you. “Be careful, Sváfa.”

“Always.” You nodded your head and turned away to jog down the castle stairs to where the two spiffily groomed and tacked pegasi waited. Bucky looked slightly irked, but it couldn’t be helped. To reach the valley quickly, you had to fly, and as a pegasus could easily take two, he would ride with Eira.

There was something there. At breakfast, the conversation between Bucky and Eira had been a little… chilly, but those were concerns of later, and Bucky was going to have to suck it up. He looked good in his armour though. You wondered if Loki had a hand in picking it out for though it was similar to Steve’s own massive burgundy set, Bucky’s was a blue dark enough to be mistaken for black. While Steve’s was heavily carved with knots and runes, Buck’s had been decorated with the symbol of the clan of Sváfaland, a pegasus rampant, wings spread wide, with a wolf snarling at its feet.

While some people might have looked at that image and assumed the wolf and pegasus did battle, you knew the truth. The wolf faced away from the pegasus. One sought to protect the other, just as Sváfaland had always lived at the foot of the Valkyrjur.

Steve’s lands, the mountains, valleys, and keep had once helped supply the Valkyrie with the things they needed. With the area no longer being inhabited, you wondered if that too had affected things in the Valkyrjur, but you’d kept that question to yourself. Steve’s responsibilities were to Midgard, not Asgard, and you wouldn't have him feeling pressured to assume a role he didn't want.

In full battle dress, Steve looked enormous standing at Hemme’s head. Today his shield had been slung over his back. Loki had produced a harness similar to what Steve wore with his suits at home to allow it to attach to his back. While it wasn’t the electromagnet gauntlet of his current suit, it was still magnetic and kept the shield available but out of the way, and when Steve threw his cloak on overtop, you couldn’t even tell it was there.

Both he and Bucky were scruffily unshaven, and you figured by the time you returned to Earth, they would be sporting beards like Thor.

“Are we ready, Eira?” you asked, noting the slight anxiety on the woman in the trickle of sweat on her neck and the quick beating of her heart.

“Yes, your majesty.” She ran a hand over her steed’s neck. “He’s never flown pillion before.”

You joined her and looked the grey over. Well conditioned with sturdy limbs, a deep girth and heavy flank, you nodded. “He’ll do fine. Bucky’s an old horseman,” you smirked his way when he snorted.

“Was that a dig, dollface?” Bucky asked. He looked intimidating standing there in all his gear.

“And if it was? There’s nothing you can do about it, old man,” you sassed. “Get on the pegasus, Buck.”

He rolled his eyes but stepped up beside Eira to run his hand down the equine’s neck. “Sorry about the weight,” Bucky muttered. “What’s his name?” he asked Eira.

“Røyke. It means smoke in the old tongue,” Eira explained.

“Good choice,” Buck murmured, skirting Røyke’s wing and stepping lightly into the saddle before shifting himself behind it. “C’mon, little girl. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Eira scowled and mounted. “Do not call me that. I am not a child.”

“Sure thing, princess.”

“I will have Røyke buck you into a lake, Sergeant.”

“Children,” you sighed and nodded to Steve already aboard Hemme. Both appeared highly amused by the two bickering behind you.

“C’mon, baby girl.” Steve held out his hand and simply lifted you into the saddle. “Bucky just doesn’t want to admit he’s nervous.”

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Bucky snarled. “I’m not nervous.”

“Then you’d best hold on,” Eira glanced your way and smiled before she turned Røyke and sent him lurching forward. Three hard strides and they were airborne, Bucky scrambling and swearing to maintain his seat.

“Thank you for never doing that to me,” Steve chuckled and held out your helmet.

You smiled at him before putting it on. “You’ve never been dumb enough to piss me off before a ride.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist, grabbing the heavy leather strap on the front of the saddle for just such a purpose. Hemme gathered himself and pushed into three long strides before his wings caught the wind and you rose up to follow the grey.

Eira wasn’t doing Bucky any favours, and neither was Røyke. The little sides slips and rough wing drags were making for a terrible first flight, and you sent Hemme after them with more speed to hover to her right.

“Eira, you dishonour yourself,” you reprimanded, “and you embarrass your mount.”

Both hung their heads. “Forgive me, your majesty. I will stop.”

“A prank made in jest is one thing, but you must know when to end it.” Bucky was looking a little green, but his colour was returning quickly. “This is Steve and Bucky’s first time to fly over Asgard, and much has changed since last I was here. Maybe you could play tour guide on the way?”

“Of course, Queen Sváfa!” she smiled, her voice carrying on the wind.

“Well done, my queen,” Steve breathed against your throat.

“She’s young yet, and I think… something happened between them last night. They’re at odds today. I can’t have that, Steve.”

“I know, baby. I’ll talk to Buck. You figure out Eira. Are you really okay with this whole Sváfa thing?”

It had been decided you’d revert to your original name. It made for less confusion. Here that was who you were. You were Queen Sváfa reborn, even if Y/N was who lived in your heart.

“Yes. It’s fine. When you’re born Valkyrie, and reborn into those memories, it is easier to shed the old life. Had I been born here, trained, and returned as Sváfa, Y/N would have been easy to put aside with only fourteen or fifteen years in that life. But I lived a life as Y/N. It’s who I am on Earth. Can I put it aside to be Sváfa again? Here? Maybe, I think so. But when we go back to Earth, I want my name back, Steve.”

He held out his hand with the large blue sapphire on it. “And I will be taking this off,” he chuckled.

“I would expect nothing less,” you snickered. “Don’t let Tony see it. He’s already put out you’re a king.”

“Yeah, there’s three of us, and none of them are him!” Steve chuckled.

***

The flight over Asgard was pleasant, Eira a knowledgeable guide, pointing out many of Asgard’s wonders on the way. But when you made the turn to approach the Valkyrjur, you felt it.

The shadow which hung on the mountain. The evil that lived in the heart of the valley.

“Can you feel that?” you asked Steve quietly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “What the heck is it?”

“Darkness. Evil. Something…” You shook your head. “It’s wretched.”  Something needed to be done and quickly.

“What’s that?” Steve asked. “The long run of green up in the mountains.”

“The Valley of the Pegasi. It’s where the mares stay, and the foals are raised,” you smiled.

Bucky let out a long low whistle. “Damn. That’s a big place.”

The Castle of the Valkyrie rose in the distance, a keep of stones and mortar. Unlike Asgard, it had never been modernized on the exterior. Traditional held sway and the stones were as ancient as the Valkyrjur itself.

“It once housed five thousand Valkyrie,” Eira said. “Now there are only three thousand.”

“Three!” you gasped. “There should never be less than four! And how many are accolades?”

“Four hundred, my queen.”

“And maidens?”

“Three hundred more.”

“Fuck! Twenty-five hundred Valkyrie! That is unacceptable! How many Jegere are there?” you asked.

Eira frowned. “What is… Jegere?”

You stared at her in shock. “The hunters, the seekers! The Valkyrie with the talent for finding those who should be brought to the Valkyrjur.”

“There is no such thing, my queen.”

“That’s not possible! Gundborg herself was chosen! She should know of the Jegere. The temple should know of the Jegere!”

“Y/N,” Steve murmured. “Calm down. You’ll get this sorted out.”

“I thought… people just applied to be one,” Bucky murmured.

“They do,” Eira said. “I was sent by my family because of the circumstances of my birth.”

You shook your head. “Yes, that also happens. Many young girls dream of being Valkyrie, but there are others still who are born for it. They are meant to be Valkyrie. The Jegere would ride once a year to attend the halls of Kings and the longhouse of the Earls, they would stop at every town and every village, search every farm. Always they returned with a girl or two each.”

“It has not been so as far back as I know it,” Eira said. “I don’t even know if my father would know of such a thing.”

“What about, Thor? Or Odin? Wouldn’t it have been weird that it just… stopped?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know, Buck. These are Valkyrie things. The Jegere never made public what their purpose was. They would find a girl, speak with her parents or her guardian, and return with her. It was an honour to be Valkyrie. To have one descend upon your hall, and then recommend your daughter return with them? No one said no.”

“But… what about the other sjelevenn?” Steve asked. “Shouldn’t the other Valkyrie remember?”

“Gunborg is the only one to be reborn in some time,” Eira murmured. “I know some died in battle, others of advanced years, but no one has returned in centuries.”

“None?” you gasped. “Ragna, Begita, Sarka? Not even Gislaug?” Eira shook her head. “And no new bonds have formed?” She shook her head again. “Not one in a thousand years?” you asked, shocked.

“Not one,” she murmured and looked away.

“Jesus!” you snarled. “Some shit’s gone down, Steven. Some major shit. I’m going to have me some answers, goddammit! Starting with _them_ ,” you growled, eyeing the spires of the temple set away from the keep you flew over.

“What’s _that_?” Bucky asked, pointing past the castle.

You laughed at his amazement. “That, Bucky, is the Hall of Valhalla!”

The magnificent building spread out long behind the castle. Its doors were currently closed but would swing wide later tonight, inviting all the Einherjar to feast within. Two stone wolves stood guard at the entrance, and a stone eagle with wings held aloft curled its talons into the peak of the roof.

“If you think it’s something from the outside, wait till you see the inside!” Eira laughed.

“Alright,” you called to her. “Let’s get this over with. I have a Fullmakt who needs an ass-kicking.”

Circling the holdings of the Valkyrjur a final time, you led the way, descending to land in the stone courtyard where women in white armour stood waiting in row upon row. Girls in blue lined up in front of their sisters.

“How many you think?” you asked Steve, wondering if your estimate was on or not.

“Fifteen hundred at most,” he murmured.

“At most. Fan-fucking-tastic,” you grumbled, the clatter of Hemme’s hooves on stone covering your voice when you landed beside the statue of Freyja.

Instantly there was a rumble of noise, a wave of whispers rippling through the crowd as the similarities between the helm you wore and the one on the statue registered. You swung your leg over Hemme’s neck and jumped to the ground, Steve following suit. Bucky and Eira doing the same.

Shrugging back your cloak, you lifted your chin and took long strides toward the group of waiting women before coming to a halt a few feet away and took the helmet from your head to hold in your hands.

“I am Sváfa, daughter of Tove, rightful Queen of the Valkyrjur. Too long have I been gone, but I am here now. To those of you who have done me the courtesy of being present for my arrival as commanded, I offer my thanks and my gratitude. You do not know me. I do not yet know you. But I am here now to return us, the Elite of Asgard, to the proper order of things. In one hour,” you lifted your hand and parted the group of them, “those Valkyrie to my left will present themselves at the training ground for assessment. In two hours, those of you on my right will do the same. Come prepared to show me your best, sisters. Full battle dress. For those of you who are accolades still, your assessment will be held tomorrow.” You arched a brow, waiting for a response.

“Yes, my queen!” rang a chorus of disjointed voices.

“Excuse me? Did some of you think that was a request?”

“No, my queen,” said a small girl with huge eyes at the front of the group, her awe clear.

“Then what should everyone’s response have been, novate?”

“Yes, my queen!” she shouted loudly.

“Excellent!” you smiled at her. “Dismissed!” you shouted but crooked your finger at the novate who’d showed her courage. “What is your name, little sister.”

“Ilsa, my queen.”

“Ilsa. Do you know where the rest of my Valkyrie are?”

“Waiting in the throne room, my queen.”

“Thank you, child. I hope your bravery today is a reflection of your work tomorrow. Are you assigned to the barns?”

“Yes, milady.” She nodded.

“Then I ask you to take Hemme and Røyke and see them groomed and settled. Hemmelighet will need the large box stall at the end of the barn made ready for his use.”

“Oh, but Valkyrie Gunborg has claimed that stall for Merrion.” She fidgeted a little. “He’s… not exactly the nicest mount.”

You wanted to mutter ‘ornery like his rider’ but kept it to yourself. “Hemme? You think you can bully an interloper out of your stall without destroying the barn?”

He snorted, then lipped Ilsa’s hair.

“Then it’s settled. He’ll kick Merrion out, you get the stall ready, and tell Medina I expect Hemme’s stall to be sparkling.”

“Yes, my queen.” Ilsa took hold of each mount’s reins and led them away, hooves clacking merrily over the stones.

Once she was away, you clenched your hands into fists. “I may kill the Fullmakt.”

“My queen?” Eira gasped.

“If what I think is about to happen happens, I may be left with no choice.” Heaving a heavy sigh, you made to put your helmet back on, stopping when Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder.

“And what’s that?”

“They’re going to fight to keep my throne from me.”

Blessed darkness surrounded you with the helmets return. You were getting better at discerning shapes and colours, but the information from your eyes after so long without was disorienting, and you would need your wits about you for what came next.

“If they come at you, can I act?” Bucky asked.

“If the words Queen’s Challenge haven’t crossed anyone's lips, you do whatever you think necessary, Buck. You too Steve, Eira.”

“And if they do throw out a challenge and someone intervenes?” Steve asked.

You looked up at him, knowing he would see hard eyes without mercy. “Than you put that fancy sword of yours through their heart. No one is allowed to interfere with a Queen’s Challenge. That is still a death sentence, right, Eira?”

Her smile was sharp. “Yes, my queen. That rule is very much still enforced.”

“Excellent!” you smiled wickedly before striding toward the doors. “Let’s go raise a little hell.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Blood, battle, a little gore.  
> Song: Queen of the Night by Whitney Houston

## Chapter Ten

* * *

The keep was laid out like an E with the main doors set in the center at the top of a half-dozen stairs. The castle spread out long to the left and right, before making the sharp turn of the wings where the living quarters for each Valkyrie resided on the second and third floors, while the main floor housed the common rooms, parlours, library, and classrooms for the novates.

The main doors led straight into a grand hall where once banners for both the rulers of Asgard and the Valkyrie hung with pride. Well over three stories tall, the space soared completely open. The roof rested on pillars of ancient stone, carved in the likeness of warrior women. Once symbols of both Valkyrie and Asgard would have hung from the rafters. Baskets of flowers and heavily scented evergreens would have softened the harshness of the stone, but now only one banner flew. Wide and grand and larger than the two previous ones together, it held pride of place above the doors to the throne room at the far end of the hall, and you glared at it in anger.

A pegasus rampant on a black background, the symbols and runes of protection gone. Not one to honour Freyja. Not one to acknowledge Odin. Nothing to show Thor’s presence at all.

“Once I deal with the Fullmakt, Eira, you will cut that monstrous piece of sacrilege down and return the ancient banners. If the one for Asgard is no longer fit to fly, or must be changed out to honour Thor properly, you will send word to Asgard to have Lady Sif bring it with her.”

“Yes, my queen.” She bowed, but you were already making your way toward the double set of old wooden doors beneath the banner which loudly proclaimed the Valkyrjur felt they were above the rules of Asgard.

Two women in full, but black, battle dress, shields and spears held at the ready stood before the closed doors.

“Who dares approach the Fullmakt’s throne?” one had the audacity to ask.

Steve stepped past you on one side, and Bucky the other. Had these women had any clue who they were addressing, or what such scowls meant when they appeared upon the men’s faces, both would have been better prepared for what came next.

Steve’s shield sang when he pulled it from beneath his cloak and sent it flying the length of the room. It clanged hard off the shields of both women, sending them slamming into the door behind them. Bucky ducked the returning weapon, having followed its path at a dead run, grabbed both stunned females by the side of the head and slammed them together, setting their ears ringing when their helmets connected.

“Your queen approaches. Show some respect,” he snarled before shoving them out of the way to shoulder open both enormous doors on his own.

“Wow,” Eira whispered, clearly admiring Bucky’s strength.

“They are more than they seem, sister kin,” you said softly and walked through the doors behind Bucky as Steve slid his shield on his arm.

The sun fell warm across your body from the floor to ceiling windows. It was a cathedral space with a gallery area around the second floor where more Valkyrie and a few maidens waited. The rest of the Valkyrjur, mostly the experienced fighters, lined the walls of the throne room. 

Three walls of windows let in the blinding morning light. You paced forward, moving between shadows and light when pillars or the width of stone window frames blocked the sun. It made you thankful for the long beak of Freyja’s helm, and how it shielded your sensitive eyes from the constant change of brightness.

Your boots echoed with each step, the room silent with your rather dramatic entrance until you came to a stop a few yards away from the dais raised three stairs up from the main floor, unlike the high throne of Asgard. You were queen, but only your title set you apart. In the day to day, or in battle, you worked, trained, and fought just as hard as everyone else.

Windows of coloured glass depicting battles of old rose to the rafters behind your understated wooden throne. But now, an interloper was sitting in your seat.

“Fullmakt, remove yourself from my throne.”

She only stared haughtily at you. “Why? Because you claim to be the long lost queen? Sváfa, daughter of Tove. Born on a foreign world, memories returned without the temple’s assistance? I think you try to take what is not yours.”

“How and why I have returned is not the question here. Thor and Loki recognize me. Odin called me to return. Freyja herself sends me,” you stated as you removed the helmet and held it high for all to see. “This was her gift to me. Given so all may know I am her chosen. To stand against me is to stand against the will of the Goddess!”

A wave of murmurs washed through the room. The stir one of unrest, and uncertainty.

“How do we know it too is not a fake?”

You turned slowly to face the throne. “You dare question Freyja?”

“I dare question you,” the woman said, rising from the throne. Taller than you, she appeared to tower above when she stood on the edge of the dais. The Fullmakt’s helm graced her head, a helm comprised of a small dragon’s skull and full feather headdress. She stood, arms crossed, her leather pants as black as the dragon’s empty eyes. A breastplate of fancy bronze protected her chest and sides, matching the bracers on her forearms. It was a look many within the hall also sported.

“I see only a woman of undetermined origin. One of… _questionable_ ability.”

You lifted your chin. “What do you mean by that?”

She tilted her head and smiled slyly. “We would never stand to let a… _disabled_ queen rule us. Tell me, _Sváfa_. Would you follow a blind queen into battle?”

Another rush of noise filled the hall, but you didn’t let her words disconcert you. Just how the hell did she know that when, for all intents and purposes, no one here should yet be aware of your disability.

“I am only partially blind. And as I defeated Medina, First among the Wings with my eyes _closed_ , I can guarantee I am a better fighter without my eyes than you would ever be with yours.”

She snarled and nearly stepped from the dais. “You _dare_?”

“If you do not step down from my throne, I will come up there and _take it_!” you bellowed. “You have allowed the Valkyrjur to fall into dishonour, and further dishonour yourself by refusing my claim. Walk away now, and I will allow you to leave the valley. You will be stripped of your armour, your sword, your rank, and your steed, but you will keep your life. Stay… and I will kill you and take what is rightfully mine.”

“You make a mockery of our ways! Bringing a man not your sjelevenn into these halls and claiming him your protector!” she screamed.

“It is you who mocks the gods!” Your hand closed around the hilt of your sword. “After seeing the state of affairs you have allowed befall the Valkyrjur, Bucky is better equipped to watch my back than any I would dare call sister.”

Gasps rose from more than a few throats, but you turned your attention from the Fullmakt to glare at Ama standing near the dais. “You disappoint me, Ama.”

“My queen.” She placed a fist on her heart and bowed deeply. “I came to try and speak sense within these walls, or I assure you, I would have been in the courtyard when you arrived. I stand with you, Queen Sváfa. On my honour.”

You listened to her heart, listened in all the ways Matty had taught you to listen and found only truth in her words, not a hint of falsehood. “Clearly, your words have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Unfortunately,” she sighed.

With a tilt of your head, you motioned for her to take her place with your small group. Ama bowed again, then moved to stand with Eira.

“The choice is yours, Fullmakt, and I am waiting for you to make it,” you said quietly, returning your attention to the woman on the dais.

“Then I chose to fight!” she screamed, reaching behind her back to pull two long blades from her spine.

“So be it,” you purred and slipped Freyja’s helm back on your head. Glemsel rang with the sound of victory when you pulled your sword from its sheath. “Any who interfere will be cut down! I declare this Queen’s Challenge!” you snarled when others began reaching for weapons.

All movement stopped, a dozen hearts skipped a beat, and you knew then and there what the plan had been. They would have cut you down as a group, come at you a dozen to one, and killed all those who stood with you, then claimed it had not been Queen’s Challenge, allowing them to justify their actions.

When the Fullmakt’s eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Gunborg, you knew you had fucked their little plan up royally. No one would dare step in now.

“I… have not decreed it so,” the woman in the dragon helm murmured.

“You stand between me and my throne, Fullmakt. It is a challenge, and _I_ have named it so! I would have your name before I send you to hell.” You let the tip of your sword rest against the ground, your mother’s gauntlet catching the light, and nodded when Steve stepped forward to slide his shield up your arm.

“Kick her ass, baby,” he whispered only for you before moving away to stand back with Bucky, Ama, and Eira.

Her heart skipped and kicked, sweat beaded her upper lip and trickled down her spine. Fear rose in a cloud of scent around her. “Selky.”

“Well met, Selky. Come, finish what you started.” With a flick of your sword, you called her out.

Her grip tightened on her swords. “So be it.”

She pushed from the dais, leapt into the air, and slashed both swords down at you. They clanged loudly off Steve’s shield, and the vibration of the blow dispersed without a twinge of it reaching your arm. 

Vibranium. You just had to love it.

Shoving her away, you slashed at her stomach to force her back, flowing with her as she moved and swung hard at her head, smacking the helm of the Fullmakt off with ease. It skidded to a stop at Gunborg’s feet where her sjelevenn bent to retrieve it.

Selky stumbled, fear appearing in the paleness of her features. Her sword swung up and you paired the first away with your blade, the second with your shield, then kicked her hard in the abdomen sending her flying back to land on the steps of the dais.

“I am _Sváfa_ , daughter of Tove, and Queen of the Valkyrie. Sister to Thor and Loki. Daughter of Odin. Chosen one of Freyja,” you stated, stalking toward the fallen woman. “I am Y/N, child of Midgard. Wife to Steven Rogers, the First Avenger. Sister to James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Sister kin to Eira, a Valkyrie maiden.”

Selky picked herself off the ground and charged forward. She swung her sword, but you brushed it away. Swung the other, and you brought the edge of Steve’s shield down on it when you stepped gracefully out of its path and sheared it off at the hilt.

Down to one weapon, Selky threw the hilt of the other sword at you, but you glided out of the way. She slashed at you, but you easily slapped her sword down, her actions growing more desperate with each ragged breath.

You let Steve’s shield slide from your arm to fall to the floor. “Freyja is most disappointed in her children,” you murmured as you flicked your sword faster than most could see and sliced open her right thigh.

A grunt escaped Selky’s lips. “You are no queen of mine.”

A sad smile curled your lips. “I know. More’s the pity.” Evading her downward slash, you snuck beneath her arm and drew your sword along her ribs. It bit deep, raking over bone. She screamed and stumbled forward a step before the tip of your blade swept through her hamstrings. “But an example must be made.”

She fell to her knees, the sharp scent of her blood filled your nose. “Freyja save me,” Selky whispered.

There was a sickening crunch when your sword when through her back, cleaving armour and bone and flesh, to exit her chest. You took her by the shoulder and whispered near her ear, “Freyja no longer sees your face.”

A cry of despair left Selky’s lips when the truth of her actions and her failure hit her at the moment of her death.

You pulled Glemsel from her back, reached up, and took your helm from your head. As you stood over her body, you allowed all to see the tears which spilled down your cheeks. Silence reigned as you looked them over, let them all know the pain in your heart for killing one of your own.

“This was not my hope,” you said softly, knowing your voice would carry to even the far reaches of the hall. “Killing a sister was never my wish, but too long has the Valkyrjur lived without leadership. Too long have you suffered, floundering without order. _No more_! The old ways, the ways of our foresisters, the ways of honour, valour, and _pride_ shall return to you, my sisters!”

A soft murmur of agreement ran through them.

“People will again look to the skies in awe when the wings of our pegasi cast shadows! They will speak of us in reverent tones as they once did! They will know in their hearts the Elite of Asgard once again ride at the will of Asgard’s King! Thor will hail us his greatest force in the Feast Halls, and we will be a _proud_ people once more!”

A louder cry of agreement reverberated within the walls.

“I will work you hard, my sisters. But you will feel joy in your souls again! You will know you live with _honour_! The young girls of this world will once more clamour to be part of our society!”

A roar was building, beginning to echo with the pounding of many feet.

“The names of the Valkyrjur will again be whispered by the mouths of the fallen, looking for us! Waiting! Hoping to be chosen for a seat in Valhalla!” you bellowed and raised your bloody sword. “Freyja will again look favourably on you!”

The roar could not be contained as the mob of them began to chant your name.

You held up your hand, asking for silence, waiting until it carried like a hush over them all. “I am Sváfa, daughter of Tove. There stands the throne of the Valkyrie. I claim my right to sit upon it. But I ask you, sisters. Am I your queen?”

Eira and Ama were the first to move. Both stepped forward and dropped to their knee, fists going to their hearts. “You are our queen!”

Bucky joined them second. “You are my queen,” he said, mirroring their action.

Nearly as one the rest of the women in the hall went to a knee. “You are our queen!”

You turned to look at Gunborg, her sjelevenn, and the handful of women with her. Their descent to their knees happened begrudgingly. “You are our queen.”

The last one standing was Steve. He walked toward you slowly, picked up his shield, stepped over Selky’s body, and took your arm to lead you toward the dais. He guided you up the stairs, sat you on the throne, and knelt at your feet.

“You are my queen.” All you could see in the blue of his eyes was pride.

Resting your sword against your throne, you took his chin in your hand, and kissed him soundly.

The roar of approval was deafening.

Again you held up your hand and waited them out. “We begin anew, sisters. The time of unrest ends now. We return to the old ways. Some things have been forgotten. Much has fallen to the past.” You glared at Gunborg. “Those who know better should not have let so much fall by the wayside.”

She looked away, but not out of shame, her jaw clenching in anger.

“Ama.” You looked to the woman who’d stood with you.

“Yes, my queen?” she rose to her feet.

“Send to the temple. I would speak with the High Priestess.”

She blinked at you and frowned. “She will not come, my queen. All must now seek their audience within the temple’s walls.”

Rage rippled inside you. Old anger which had you tightly gripping Freyja’s helm. It was as if the gift from the Goddess had also bestowed a bit of her inside you. As if a tendril of her power had become yours and reacted poorly when the old ways were discarded or ignored.

You waved her closer and held out the helmet when she approached. “Take this with you. Tell her Freyja’s chosen commands her presence. If she will not come, _make her_!” you snarled.

Ama looked shocked, but took the helmet and hurried out of the hall.

A ripple of unease went through the rest of the Valkyrie and had you rising to your feet. “Make no mistake, sisters! I spoke with the Goddess at length about her feelings on you, her temple, and her priestess’. _Freyja is not pleased_!” you roared. “Things will change both here and in the temple, and all those who stand against her will, will not survive the purge that is coming.”

“If you’re her chosen,” Gunborg said, getting to her feet. “Why are you only now returning?”

“Excuse me?” you glared at her.

“You said Loki and Thor knew you. Odin has been calling you back. How long have you been returned to your memories, _my queen_ ,” she sneered, “before deciding to grace us with your presence.”

Unfortunately, it was a valid question. “Two and a half months.”

“Almost three months,” she scoffed, sending more ripples of unease filling the hall as she stormed forward. “And only now you decide to grace us with your presence?”

“I first had to learn to live as a Valkyrie with partial blindness. I would have been no good to anyone as I was, and as I had only just found my sjelevenn, time was needed to adjust for both of us.”

“A month I could understand,” she pressed, turning to face the others, “but _three_?”

“It took time to find a teacher who could assist me with both my Valkyrie abilities and my disability,” you explained, a smile twitching your lips. “Then I spent a month with him, learning, training, growing into my Valkyrie self again. Even we are given that amount of time to settle the memories of our past lives, Gunborg.”

“Then there was that other thing,” Steve said, amusement in his tone.

You smiled at him, knowing he knew why you were letting her spew her vitriol. He’d returned to his feet and had thrown his cloak back, standing beside your throne looking huge and sexy in all his armour.

“Yeah, that was fun,” Bucky smirked, striding up the dais to stand on the other side of your throne in a position which mirrored Steve’s. “But I’m glad we only had to fight one of those things.”

“No one was speaking to you, _Midgardian_ ,” Gunborg sneered. “Keep your dogs on a leash,” she spat at you.

“Now, Gunborg, just because my sjeleven and his brother gave yours a little beating last time you were on Earth doesn’t mean you should get all testy about it,” you snickered, causing laughter to ripple through the hall.

Brynjar, Gunborg’s sjelevenn, sneered a nasty comment which loosely translated to _mongrels_ in the old tongue, and while neither Steve nor Bucky reacted, you knew they understood him perfectly well.

“And maybe you should muzzle yours,” you growled at Gunborg.

“You claim to be so invested in the old ways, yet your sjelevenn is _unmarked_ ,” she sneered, looking smug.

“You mean this mark?” Steve asked, tugging down his armour to show it off. “She didn’t like the idea of branding me like cattle, but then I know she doesn’t see me as a possession but a partner.” Steve’s smile grew even smugger than Gunborg’s had been when Brynjar scowled at his words. 

Before anyone could react, Eira interrupted. “My queen? To what are your sjelevenn and guard referring? Why did it take more time for you to return?”

“I was given a mission by Odin. I had to kill the last of the Sjeletyv.”

Shock and horror rippled through the hall.

“Lies!” Gunborg spat. “Odin destroyed them all when he cleansed the lost world!”

“One escaped,” you murmured, too many memories swamping you as you sat down again. “One on a ship. One ljå who found its way to Earth and made a pact with humans who wished for immortality. The woman of my mentor had been made ljå. She led us to the Sjeletyv in a cave below the ground where I killed the last of them. Our team took out the others, and we destroyed the mountain after my mentor… killed his woman.”

Soft sounds of pity and amazement spread.

“I do not believe you!” Gunborg spat. “No Valkyrie ever won single-handedly against a ljå. Not even you.”

“So you acknowledge I am who I say I am, Gunborg?” She stiffened but gave an angry nod which caused another ripple of unrest to fill the room. Gunborg was losing favour fast with that revelation. “Then you will remember my other _talent_. And as you did not fight on the lost world with us, how would you know whether or not I battled and destroyed the ljå alone or not? I killed many on my own before, but this one, the Earthbound one, went after my sjelevenn.”

She gasped and took a step back. “You went Berserk?”

You smiled wickedly. “I did.”

“The legend is true?” Eira gasped.

“She’s magnificent when it happens,” Steve said proudly.

“No.” Gunborg shook her head. “It’s not possible.”

“Heimdall was there,” Bucky smirked. “His eyes were invaluable.”

Gunborg paled for none would dare question someone as known for his honour as Heimdall.

“I was injured during the battle and only just recovered the day you arrived to challenge me on Earth. That also happened to be my wedding day so you will have to forgive me for taking four days to spend time alone with my husband,” you smiled sweetly. “I came home as soon as I could.”

Her teeth ground together, but Gunborg knew she’d lost. There was no way she could challenge your honour on the subject further without making herself out as a jealous fool.

“I… accept your reasons _, my queen_.”

“Excellent!” You popped up from the throne. “Sisters! Already the others make ready to present themselves in full battle dress. Half of you will join the first group, half of you will join the second, but all will be expected to meet on the training grounds in either thirty minutes or an hour after that. For those accolades I see gathered, your testing begins tomorrow. Come prepared to impress me. Failure will not go without consequences.”

They all began to file out as you waved Eira forward. “Gather those you trust and bring them to me here. Then send a few of the young ones to find the old banners.”

“Yes, Sváfa,” she smiled.

“Remember, you are my ledsager. Your voice carries the authority of mine should any question you.”

Eira bowed and hurried away.

You collapsed onto the throne when the doors shut with everyone's exit. “Well, that was fun,” you sighed, glaring at the red pool left behind where Selky’s body had been. A couple of Valkyrie had come and collected her before leaving, taking her body to be prepared for burial.

“You did good, darlin’,” Steve murmured, squeezing your shoulder.

“I don’t like killing, and that was senseless killing.” You waved your hand at the floor. “She could have walked away.”

“They had it all worked out,” Bucky muttered. “Until you called it a challenge, we were gonna have a fight on our hands.”

“I know. And I also know which ones will be trouble now. Some stood with Gunborg, but there were others scattered around the room. Their hearts all jumped when they put their weapons away.”

“You seem mighty chummy with that Ama all of a sudden,” Bucky murmured. “You sure about her, dollface?”

“As I can be. She didn't lie, Buck. Not even a minute change in heart or breathing.”

He chuckled softly. “You always amaze me, Y/N.”

You sent him a wink. “I do try, Bucky.”

“I do have one question,” Steve said, looking away from the walls of colourful glass. “How the hell did she know you were blind?”

You shook your head. “I wondered that too. No one here should know.”

“Loki?” Bucky asked.

Again you shook your head. “He wouldn't have said anything unless asked directly, and why would they have reason to ask about that? Could someone have guessed because of their colour?” you wondered.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky murmured. “They're different, but you don't act or appear blind. You look directly at people when they talk, still do. Unlike Murdock who would cock his head when he was listening.”

“The only people who knew were us,” Steve muttered. “The team.”

“And Garry,” Bucky grumbled. “Between Nat, Bruce, and I, I'm pretty sure he knew just how badly he'd fucked you up.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, but knew Loki would have explained in detail why Garry was at his mercy. “So, now Garry is missing, and people who shouldn't know about my eyes do. What are we saying? Someone here helped Garry escape? And you think he's working with them?”

“It's a plausible explanation. After all, we know someone from the temple sold you out to Hydra. How else would they have your scroll?” Bucky shrugged.

You peered up at him for a moment before another sigh left your lips. “Great. Just fucking great.” Loki would really want to be running amuck in your valley.

Bucky picked your sword up and wiped it off on the edge of his cloak.

“Eww! Bucky that's nasty!” you squealed. “Now you're going to get blood everywhere!”

“Well next time clean it off on the body first before you let people take it away!” he huffed as Steve burst out laughing.

“Oh, man!” Steve leaned against the arm of your throne, doubled over with laughter. “This is a conversation I could _never_ have imagined being part of!”

Bucky started to chuckle, and you giggled. Soon the three of you were laughing like looneys; all bent over together as the high level of tension finally broke.

No, things hadn't gone quite as planned, but they were progressing. And with your two guys watching your back, and new allies popping up unexpectedly, you felt a little more positive about the future.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language  
> Song: Pompeii by Bastille

## Chapter Eleven

* * *

The fast, loud, angry steps had you looking up. “Someone's feeling pissy,” you murmured as you sat up straighter and crossed your legs.

Steve lightly played with your braids. “They ain't nothing you can't handle.”

“And if all else fails, I can clean your sword a second time,” Bucky said with such calm, you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not.

The doors at the end of the hall were pushed inward at a much slower rate than Bucky had accomplished, the two women who had guarded the way replaced by two others. Each struggled against the heavy oak before getting it moving and revealing the scowling visage of a woman of middle years, her headdress ornate when she tromped through the opening toward the throne.

“I demand to know on whose authority you call me here! If  you wish an audience, you are to subjugate yourself before the altar like all other petitioners!”

You stiffened and curled your talons into the grooves on the underside of the armrest. “I am not the Fullmakt to prostrate myself before you, High Priestess!”

She came to a grinding halt, forcing the four younger women following her to jostle into one another when they had to stop or run her down. “Who are you?”

“She is Sváfa, reborn daughter of Tove,” Bucky stated.

“Sister to Thor and Loki; daughter of Odin,” added Steve.

“Chosen as Queen by Freyja herself, and wife to Hurgid’s true heir, Steven, King of Sváfaland,” Bucky finished.

You could almost hear Steve’s eyes roll and bit back a laugh. “As you hold Freyja’s helm in your hands, priestess, one would think you would understand just who was calling you to appear,” you said as you rose to your feet.

Ama plucked your helm from the woman’s lax fingers and returned to drop to a knee on the stairs of the dais where she held it out to you. “My Queen.”

“My thanks, Ama.” You handed it to Steve.

The High Priestess looked stunned for a moment before looking around. “Where is Selky?”

You nodded toward the pool of blood congealing off to the side. “She died on the end of my sword when she refused my right to the throne.”

Her heavily made-up eyes widened before she hurried toward the foot of the dais. “Forgive me, your majesty,” she murmured, arriving at the stairs to bow her head. “The Fullmakt these last few terms have been becoming… full of themselves. I am Willa, High Priestess of Freyja.”

The headdress of long dark horns, wings of a raven, and the delicate feathers of an ancient bird so old its name had been lost to time flowed with her midnight black hair of twisted lengths like binding ropes down her body to skim the floor. A dress of muted green hugged her curves but left her arms bare, allowing the lines of her tattoos, all runes of magic and protection, to show against her pale skin. More magic resided in the beads and stone necklaces around her throat, and the broad belt of carved leather around her waist.

You held out your hand, and Bucky put your sword in it. “I could say the same of you, priestess!” you hissed as you paced down the stairs to stand before her. “Chaining a son of Odin? My brother, one who I love?” you snarled.

She appeared momentarily taken aback. “He… he'd been accused of spying in the Valkyrjur. He is Loki, one who has shown himself to be evil. I was justified in my decision!”

“And I would be justified in handing you over to Thor for his judgement! I sent Loki! He came at my bidding, and withheld his reasons for being here at my behest! As a son of Odin, you should have immediately sent to Asgard for Thor or Odin’s assistance, and when Thor came seeking his brother, you should have released him to the King! Loki is not some male of no standing to be abused and left in chains for days!” you roared, causing her to cower away from you.

“He was an uninvited, unescorted male in the halls of the Valkyrjur. Our laws are very clear.”

You looked past the High Priestess to the woman speaking and felt revulsion writhe within you. Here, here was a woman who made your skin crawl. Something about her was wrong.

“No one asked your opinion,” Steve said sharply.

“Be silent, _man_! Your betters are speaking.” She lifted her chin and glared down her nose at your sjelevenn.

Red coated your vision, you blinked, and found your taloned hand wrapped around the woman’s throat. “Address my sjelevenn in such a tone again, and I won’t hesitate to beat you bloody.”

Fear filled her eyes before she nodded. “Yes, your majesty.”

You released her and stalked back to Willa. “I will forgive the transgression against Loki once and do what I can to keep his anger from spilling over should the two of you need to be in the same room.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Don’t,” you snapped at her. “You are on notice, High Priestess! Freyja is not impressed! And I am certainly not impressed when my life scroll ends up in the hands of Hydra, a most hated enemy on Earth! So, tell me just how that happened?”

All five of the women gasped in shock. “That’s not possible!” Willa said angrily.

“Loki verified the seal himself.”

She looked at Bucky who was leaning against the back of your throne. “Why is this… male speaking to me?” Willa asked.

“Because he is my guard and the brother of my sjelevenn. I have granted him all the rights and privileges of one who is my guard would be allowed. Which means he has the right to speak his mind when he wills it. This _mentality_ that men are stupid is beneath us. We all know it isn’t true, and the attitude you are showing ends here and now.”

“As you say, my queen.” Willa bowed her head. “You are certain it was the scroll of your life?”

“I am.” You lifted your chin. “Because of Hydra’s knowledge, my life as a Valkyrie was returned to me. How? We have not been able to ascertain. I bid you check your archives if you don’t believe me.”

She stepped closer and slowly lifted her hands. “May I be permitted to look?”

When Bucky shifted, you held up your hand. “It’s alright.”

Willa lightly touched your temples and closed her eyes. A warmth bloomed around your head, then faded when she pulled away. “You are who you say you are. I can see your lives back to the first. I… do not understand how this is possible without our magic.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted. “Nor do I understand why I have been locked out of Asgard for a thousand years. But I will find out.”

A heart jumped, a telling reaction, but you didn’t look at the woman who’d sniped at Steve. She was part of what was happening, of this you had no doubt.

“I will endeavour to do the same, your majesty.” Willa motioned toward the women with her. “We shall make it our mission to see the truth discovered. I assure you, my queen.”

“Good. I would hate to have to purge the temple, but Freyja wills me to discover who has messed with the plan of the Norns.”

“You speak as if you know her personally, your majesty,” one of the other women murmured. “How is this possible?”

“She assisted my sjelevenn in his quest for the sword of Hurgid and came to me on Midgard a few days ago. She explained many things, gifted me her helm, and bid me purge the darkness from the heart of the Valkyrjur. This,” you slashed a hard look over all who stood before you, “I will do. The old ways will be reinstated. Our traditions have been lost. This is unacceptable. Tonight we dine in Valhalla, and you will perform the Rite of Nine.” You looked at Willa. “If you know how?”

She stiffened. “Of course. You will also need to be blessed under the mantle of Freyja.”

“Then you shall perform both rites tonight before we feast in Valhalla. It has been some time since I dined with the Einherjar. I find I am looking forward to seeing them again, and overlooking those who the Valkyrjur have gathered since my absence.”

Again a heart jumped, betraying the woman in the midst of the others. Was there something about the einherjar she didn’t want you to see?

“It shall be as you say, my queen.” Willa bowed deeply. “If you will excuse us. There is much to make ready.”

“High Priestess.” You tilted your head in dismissal.

They swept out with the same grandeur they’d swept in, and you returned your sword to your hip as you made your way toward the throne. “Ama, tell me of the woman who spoke out against Steve.”

“That is Kerse. She is the most promising of Freyja’s priestesses. A gifted woman of magic.”

“She’s good; I’ll give her that,” Bucky murmured. “Her face never changed.”

“Not even a twitch of micro-reaction. Too bad she can’t control her heart,” Steve agreed.

“Exactly,” you smirked. “I should have known you two would hear it too.”

“I… do not understand,” Ama frowned.

“The Priestess Kerse reacted strongly to the queen’s statements,” Bucky chuckled. “Even without reacting at all.”

“You can… you can hear heartbeats?” Ama gasped. “How?”

You lifted your helm from your seat and sat again on your throne. “There is more to us than we can explain in a short time, Ama. But yes. We can hear heartbeats, and so much more. I could tell you what you ate for breakfast, what scents you like in your baths, and distinguish your pegasus from the entire herd. I know Eira is returning with eight women. Three walk with the confidence of seasoned Valkyries. Five are maidens and yet unsure of themselves.” You leaned into Steve’s hand when his knuckles brushed your cheek. “Underestimating me, Steve, or Bucky, is a very bad idea.”

Ama chuckled softly and nodded. “I see. I am happy I chose your side, my queen. I think these next few days shall be quite… entertaining.”

“As do I, Ama,” you murmured when Eira and her group made their way into the throne room. Along with them came a young woman wearing a drab brown dress and dirty white apron. She packed a bucket which slopped water. Her appearance made you frown and hold up your hand before Eira could speak. “Who are you?”

She didn’t even look up, but kept her chin down and skirted the edge of the room.

“Girl with the bucket. Who are you?” you asked a second time.

Her head snapped up, and eyes widened in fear. “Forgive me, milady. I tried to be quiet. I can come back.”

The collar around her neck had you rising slowly to your feet. “What _the fuck_ is the meaning of this!?”

Immediately she fell to her knees, prostrating herself on the stones. “Please don’t kill me! Forgive my impertinence!”

You turned on Eira. “Why is there a slave in my keep?”

Eira lifted her head. “It was the choice made by the Fullmakt ten years ago. She said Valkyries should not be doing manual labour.”

Steve was already up and moving, striding toward the woman face down on the stone. “Up. Stand up,” he murmured, urging her from the ground. “No one here will harm you. The Queen isn’t angry with you, but with the circumstances.”

“Steve, get that collar off her neck!” you snapped, glaring at the women who all looked very guilty. “And not one of you stood against Selky? Not one protested such a _heinous action_!”

“Those who protested…” Eira struggled to find the words.

“Two were killed,” Ama murmured. “The most vocal of the protesters. Selky had them put to the sword after stripping them of their wings.”

Eira gripped the hand of one of the younger girls when she appeared near tears. “We lost their pegasi as well. Neither stallion would stand for their execution. Gunborg and Nera, they took their heads. After, no one dared say anything.”

You clenched your fist so tightly, your talons pierced your palm. “She died much too quickly,” you whispered before stepping from the dais to approach the woman Steve was holding up by the elbows. “What is your name?”

“Terra,” she whispered, fear like a cloud around her.

“Where are you from, Terra?” you asked quietly, exchanging places with Steve as he had a look at the large lock on the back of her neck.

“Ellis Five, milady.”

You took in the high brow ridge and slight yellow tinge to her skin. “Of course you are. Can you tell me how you ended up a slave?”

She yelped when Steve snapped the lock and tossed it to the ground before unbuckling the metal band around her throat. “My father… sold me,” she whispered, “when I was four. I’ve known nothing but servitude.”

Anger roared through you, souring your insides, but you smiled for her benefit. “No more. Now, you are free. You may stay or go as you wish. If you chose to leave, the Valkyrjur will compensate you for your years here. If you decide to stay, you will still be compensated for your years here, and I will speak with Thor about finding you work.”

“I…” she gasped, her eyes so wide and shocked, then tears of blue began to slip down her face. “This isn’t real!”

“It is real. Slavery has been outlawed on Asgard for more than a millennium. It is so abhorrent to Asgardians; they tend to go to war to free people who are held in such bondage. This should never have happened, but for you, Terra, you should feel joy. If you had not been brought here, you would not be free now.”

“You will free… all of us?” she whispered.

“All?” you asked, more fury gathering inside you.

“There are fifteen of us.”

Your stomach dropped. “Fifteen…”

“Yes. We came on a transport together.”

As you turned away from her, you brought your hand to your mouth only to inhale the coppery scent of your blood. “Terra, go now and gather them all. Bring them here. Each will be freed immediately. I will speak with Thor, and those who wish to leave Asgard to return to their homeworlds or go somewhere else will have access through the Bifrost.”

“Really?”

You bowed your head, ashamed of what your people had become. “Yes. All will be paid what any person of service on Asgard would be paid and released.”

She fell to her knees and pressed her forehead to your calf. “Thank you, milady! Thank you!”

Placing your hand on her head, you closed your eyes. “Go, Terra. Bring me the others.”

She scrambled up, stumbled, nearly fell, and ran from the room.

“This… is unacceptable,” you murmured. “We do not have _slaves_! And to kill two good Valkyrie for standing up for the rights of others? When did we go so wrong?”

Steve’s hand came down on your shoulder. “I don’t know, min vakre skjoldpike, but you’re here now. You’ll get things straightened out.”

“She should have been a Valkyrie. She is a strong female,” one of the women with Eira murmured.

“Why would you say that?” you asked, curious at her statement.

Red of hair but short and petite, her blush crawled up her neck and filled her face. “I… I just… I don’t know.”

Striding across the hall, you stopped and took her chin in your hand. “Do not dismiss this so easily. Tell me what you feel, maiden.”

She blinked twice, her face growing hotter when her blush deepened. “I feel… a pull. An innate knowing. She should be one of us, but it's too late. I have thought so since her arrival here.”

“And have you felt this before…?”

“Benatta, my queen. Yes, twice before.”

A smile quirked your lips. “Eira, we have found our first Jegere.”

“I don’t know this word,” Benatta said.

“You will, Benatta. You will,” you smiled and released her as you looked over the others. “Welcome, sisters. Eira speaks highly of you all. I hope I can trust her judgement.”

The three who were full Valkyrie stepped forward and knelt, two slightly behind the third. “You honour us, Queen Sváfa,” said the one in the forefront. “This is Magret,” she motioned to the brunette on her right, “and Jesslyn,” the blonde on her left. “And I am Brynhildr.”

Your breath froze in your lungs. “Bryn…hildr?” Flashes of memories, times of joy and times of sorrow hit you harder than a kick from a pegasus. The face of your long lost sister seemed to overlay that of the woman before you, but you breathed in and out and fought them down to really look at her.

Her name may be similar, but she looked nothing like Brynhildr of your past. The warrior woman of bronze skin and copper hair, her green eyes blazing and smile quick but fleeting was not the dark beauty bowed before you. This woman could have easily walked the runways of Earth.

Model thin with stunning sharp features and chestnut brown locks, she had eyes of soft purple. She would be considered a beauty on any world.

“Is something amiss, my queen?” she asked with a frown.

“No,” you smiled. “No. You have the same name as one of my former sisters. It startled me is all.” You motioned for them to stand. “There will be many changes in the next few days, sisters. I would appreciate your input if you notice a… shift in morale or have ideas about changes in policy when I begin to implement them. We have taken a mighty step away from what is good and right. It is time to step back to where we belong.”

All three smiled and relaxed, nodding and grinning at each other.

“Your words and presence alone have been enough to have the disquiet I have been feeling here,” Jesslyn said, tapping her chest, “settling. Since I became a full Valkyrie, I have felt a wave of wrong in the valley, but there has been little any of us could do but pray to Freyja, and have hope.”

“Agreed,” Magret smiled. “Long has something festered in the valley. These five and Eira, all should be blooded by now. That they are not, that many of the others are not, it… sours something in my belly.”

“Mine too,” you nodded and turned to the five young maidens. “And you, maidens? Are you willing to keep your ears open for me?”

All five knelt. “We will, your majesty.”

“Tell me. Were you told the same shit Eira was? That your perception of souls is skewed?” All nodded, heads down in shame. “Once I am satisfied the Valkyrjur is back on track, I will fly with the wings and test all of you again.”

Their heads snapped up, and awe filled their faces.

Eira stepped forward. “Queen Sváfa. These are my dear friends, my true sisters. Dagny, Inga, Kaja, Tekla, and Liva. We came to the Valkyrjur together. I would trust them with my life and in turn… yours.”

Bucky moved and appeared swiftly behind Eira. “I will be the judge of their worthiness to protect the queen.”

“You have trust issues,” Eira muttered, quelling a flinch.

Again you noted the tension between her and Bucky. “I don’t know what _this_ ,” you pointed to the two of them, “is, but cut it the hell out.”

“Sváfa,” Bucky nodded, his grin smug, making you roll your eyes.

“Kiss ass, Barnes,” you grumbled. “Sisters. There are fifteen minutes until the first trial begins. You should get ready.”

“We must still be tested?” Brynhildr frowned. “But I thought…”

“You’d be given leeway because you are here, now, at my behest?” You smiled as you shook your head. “A Valkyrie’s first duty is to train until your swordplay is an extension of your body. Today is for me to assess where each excels or needs work. Then tomorrow, we drill. All of us. Even me.” You turned and walked away to where Terra had left the bucket and wet cloth. “We are Valkyrie. We are the Elite Warriors of Asgard, but we are not above anyone else. I am your queen, but I am not above anyone else. We have no servants. We never have, because Freyja taught us we must be self-sufficient. If a warrior is lazy, or will not clean, clothe, and feed herself, how will she survive a campaign where such pleasantries as a soft bed or hot bath are no longer available.” You settled to your knees and wrang out the cloth in the bucket.

“My queen…” Eira murmured, “You must let one of us do that for you.”

“Why? I am queen because I am the strongest and you agree I should sit on the throne, but I am no better than Terra. We may have a cook and kitchen staff to see to our needs en masse, we may have a laundress, and the novates see to our chambers and steeds as they learn to serve others, but we were all novates at one time. And if I cannot get my hands dirty by cleaning up the blood I caused to spill, what kind of role model am I to those novates?”

Before any of them could stop you, you began to wipe the blood from the stones.

Suddenly, Brynhildr knelt across from you and reached for a second cloth. “That does not mean we cannot assist you,” she looked up into your eyes, “my queen.”

You smiled slowly, lips curling until you couldn’t help but grin. “Perhaps you are more like my Brynhildr than I previously thought.”

***

Steve stood at your side with Bucky, watching as the first round of trials got underway. It had taken slightly longer than fifteen minutes when Terra returned with the fourteen others slaves each of which you instantly had Steve and Bucky remove the collars from around their necks.

You told each of them the same thing as Terra. They were free. They would be compensated for their service. And if they wished to leave Asgard, you would see them sent home. It was difficult for them to believe you, but when you said Lady Sif of Asgard would be arriving the next day and any who wished could leave with her, many of them started to cry.

Even now it made you sick thinking of it. Of what these poor people had gone through at the hands of your people. This was not the Valkyrie way. When the sjelevenn bond began to take on the same tone, treating people as if they were property, it had made you just as angry.

“Baby, breathe,” Steve murmured, curling his arm around your waist. “I know this is all pissing you off, but you can only deal with one problem at a time. You freed fifteen women from a life of servitude. You did a good thing.”

“Things are changing fast, Y/N,” Bucky said softly, his hand lightly squeezing yours. “There’s a lot of confused and worried faces out there.”

“I know. But I feel…” you fought to find the right words. “I feel like I can’t stop. Like we need to strike hard and fast. Throw those who would oppose me for a loop and keep them off balance.”

“You certainly seem to be doing that,” Steve chuckled.

Ama and Eira jogged toward you. “We are ready for the melee, Queen Sváfa.”

You stepped out onto the sand of the large field. “Excellent. I want to see your skills, sisters! This is not a brawl. The last Valkyrie standing will earn a reward,” you called loudly, making sure all would hear.

“What’s the reward?” an unknown voice cried out.

“You may choose which table you serve in Valhalla for your next three nights on duty!” A rush of excitement filled the women. At least _that_ didn’t seem to have changed. “Begin!”

Bucky and Steve stayed with you as you began to make your way around the field, watching with all your abilities.

“What’s that mean?” asked Steve.

“And what’s the rite of nine?” Bucky muttered.

You chuckled softly. “Valhalla is full of very rowdy men. Some tables are easier to serve than others. Some are simply… more fun. And the Rite of Nine is a Valkyrie tradition. You will see what it entails tonight.”

Two combatants tumbled to the ground in front of you. They rolled in the dirt before one got the upper hand and landed a blow which would have killed the second if not for the blunted weapons. “Good. Both of you. Well done. Victor, return to the battle.” You held your hand down for the loser. “Next time, you will do better. Go, wait on the sidelines with the others.”

“Yes, my queen.” She bowed her head and walked off, appearing a little downtrodden.

“Needs to work on her feet,” Steve murmured.

“Yes, she does,” you agreed. “Though both could improve their hand to hand.”

“I think all could improve their hand to hand,” Bucky grumbled. “I could knife a couple of them without them ever even knowing I was there.”

“Not everyone can be the Winter Soldier,” you snickered.

He stopped and frowned toward the middle of the field. “What is she doing?”

You arched a brow as you turned your attention to Eira. “Winning,” you said impressed with her skill.

“She leaves her left side exposed. It will be a liability if she-” Bucky never got to finish as Eira took a staff to her ribs and stumbled. Pain showed clearly on her face, but she swept her blunted sword into the knees of her opponent, sending the other woman to her back. Eira tapped her sword against the other's neck, and turned to find a new opponent.

“Hm,” you hummed. “She reminds me of myself at her age.”

“Stubborn and pigheaded?”

You punched Bucky in the ribs. “Exactly.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none  
> Song: Fragile by Sting

## Chapter Twelve

* * *

The first group of fighters came down to a battle between two. Eira, who surprised you with her skill - and perhaps a little luck was on her side - and a woman you did not yet know but who Ama named Oda.

She was petite but moved with skill and speed, and if she showed off a little, you couldn't fault her. It was a contest after all, and when she swept Eira’s feet out from under her, you clapped along with everyone else.

“Impressive, Oda! You are worthy of your win.”

She smiled brightly and pressed a fist to her heart when she bowed. “Thank you, Queen Sváfa.”

“Are you a trainer?”

“Yes, milady. I work with the little ones on stance and proper swordplay.”

“Hmm,” you nodded slowly, keeping your thoughts to yourself for the moment. “Ladies.” You turned to face the group, some standing, some kneeling, others nursing knocks and bruises. “I'm impressed. Well done. Tomorrow, you will be split up to work with the trainers on the areas where you need polishing. For now, get cleaned up, ice and bandage your wounds, and prepare for tonight. It has been some time since I celebrated with my sisters in Valhalla.”

They gave a tired but enthusiastic cheer and began to vacate the field passing fresh Valkyries on their way to it.

“Oda, do you serve tonight?”

“Yes, my queen. I am starting my rotation, so I shall serve for three nights.” She practically beamed.

“Excellent! The choice is yours. Do the rest still draw lots?” you asked.

“They do.”

“And how many tables does Valhalla now hold?”

“Five hundred,” she said proudly.

You smiled and contained your concern. “Thank you, Oda. Dismissed.”

Eira limped closer as Oda bowed and hurried away. “What is it? What's wrong?”

Bucky and Steve closed ranks.

That Eira knew you well enough to notice your concern had you contemplating your sister kin a little closer. “There are ten thousand warriors in Valhalla. How is that possible?”

“I don't understand,” Eira murmured.

“There were two thousand when last I was here. Two thousand picked from the best of the best. Those most worthy. In a year, even when we were five thousand Valkyrie strong, it was unlikely we would return with more than two worthy souls. It is not so easy to gain access to Valhalla. Those worthy are usually few and far between.”

“Yet you claim all of us Avengers belong here?” Bucky asked a brow arched skeptically.

“The Avengers are an exceptional group of extraordinary people, and just because you could enter Valhalla, doesn't mean you would want to. Your beliefs are not those of old. We would never glean souls of people who do not long for Valhalla, no matter how powerful.”

“What are you saying, dollface?” Steve asked.

“I was expecting two thousand, maybe three more, not seven. People don't worship Odin as a God, not like they used to. In the last few years, there may have been a resurgence of followers, what with Thor's arrival, but this? Something doesn't feel right.” And with Eira and the other maidens having been told their sight was wrong, just who was collecting these souls for Valhalla?

***

The second round of mock battles didn’t go quite as you’d hoped. Gunborg and her people gave a half-hearted performance and were knocked out quickly by women who you knew were shocked by them their win. They didn’t even wait to see the outcome, just walked off two or three at a time when they thought you weren’t watching.

But this wasn’t kindergarten. You weren’t their nursemaid. If they wanted to be petulant and run off to pout and lick their wounds, so be it.

The second group contained many of the seasoned veterans. The battle was longer, a little bloodier, and when it came to its conclusion, it was at your call to end it. The two finalists had fought valiantly, but it was clear the outcome would be a draw unless one seriously injured the other.

They were May and Frey, sisters before they were Valkyrie, and well matched. It appeared three would have their choice of tables. Oda first, then May and Frey would choose where they served for the next three nights.

After they had cleaned up, Eira, Ama, Brynhildr, Jesslyn, and Marget joined you, Steve, and Bucky in what had once been Selky’s office. It was a mess, unorganized, and filthy. The entire disaster was giving you a headache, but between the eight of you, names were put to faces, groups were sorted, teachers discovered, and a plan for the morning made. You trusted the women to assist you in this as they knew better what each Valkyrie was capable of, and who everyone was.

You, Bucky, and Steve worked on sorting through the pile of paper on Selky’s desk, as well as clearing out the filth. Neither man complained about the weight of their armour, nor did they appear bothered by it, but you supposed that came from wearing the heavy suit of kevlar for Steve, and the vest of vibranium for Bucky. They were both like mules, never tiring, just plowing along, and when Terra appeared in the doorway, her knuckles rapping tentatively on the wood, you called everyone to take a break.

Ama, Brynhildr, Jesslyn, Marget, and Eira offered to head to the kitchen and dig up food and drink. Each smiled and nodded to Terra as they left, lightly touching her arm and apologizing for not fighting for her freedom earlier.

Terra, to her credit, nodded her acceptance, murmuring how she always appreciated how they would ask for things, not demand, and were kind to her when others weren’t.

Then she nervously approached your desk, and you stood from behind it, brushing your dusty hands off on your hips. “Terra, what can I do for you?”

You watched as she made to kneel, paused, shook a little when she fought the training which had been beaten into her over the years, and straightened her spine. “I have come with a request for myself and a few of the others.”

Steve sat in your vacated seat as you made your way around the desk to motion Terra toward a pair of chairs placed beside a table in front of a grimy window. “Please. Sit and speak freely. It’s the least you’re owed for what’s happened.”

Bucky wandered over to stand at the corner of your chair, but his face was soft and smile kind when Terra glanced at him worriedly.

“Don’t let his size fool you. He’s a puppy, really,” you assured her and snickered when Bucky poked you in the back of the head.

“Watch it, princess,” he scoffed.

“That’s _your majesty_ to you, buddy,” you chuckled, still focused on Terra. “Go ahead, Terra. As you can see, I’m anything but intimidating.” Steve snorted, but you ignored him.

“I think… you can be very intimidating when you wish, your majesty.” She twisted her hands in her apron. “The reason I’ve come is many of us… we don’t want to leave,” she whispered.

You frowned. “Why? You will soon be quite wealthy, and you will be free. You can go wherever you like. Why would you want to stay here?”

Terra’s chin tucked even lower. “Most of us were sold as children into this life. We know no other way to live. I was fortunate to learn to read my native tongue and basic before that, but some, Glendora for example, from Sakar, she never had the chance. We may have been slaves here, but we weren’t treated poorly… for the most part. I would rather stay here a servant, one who is safe and,” she swallowed thickly, “untouched, then leave and become lost and possibly end up worse off than I was.”

You sat back in your chair, leaning on your elbow, a hand covering your mouth. “I hadn’t even thought…” you murmured aware you hadn't considered how releasing them from their collars might affect the women. “How many of you wish this?”

“Ten,” she whispered.

“And the other five?”

“Were taken from their worlds by force. Two go in search of their families, also taken. What money they will have from this will help with the search. The others just want to go home.”

You stood to your feet and paced across the room to the map of Asgard hanging on the wall. You stood there for a moment, contemplating, planning, wondering if maybe, just maybe, with how few Valkyrie there were now if perhaps it wasn’t time to put a few of the past rules behind you.

“Alright.” You turned to face her. “The ten who wish to stay may do so. But we will be discussing what is and isn’t expected of you. You will also be put in charge of overseeing the novates who are learning to serve their sisters.”

“My Queen?” she frowned, clearly confused.

“There are four hundred of our little accolades here, hoping to become Valkyries. That’s approximately six Valkyrie they are each responsible for seeing too. The ten of you will be tasked with seeing they are doing their chores correctly. Checking the beds are made, and the rooms are tidied. Yes, I know that’s forty girls each, but it shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes to check rooms and give approval. At one time, it was no more than three Valkyrie per novate, but our numbers are down.

Each of you who wish to stay will be given jobs to do daily, and you will rotate days off. All of you will be required to learn to read. Those who can’t will be taught; there are instructors who help our young ones learn the languages we need to know. They will teach those of you who need it how to read and write basic. You are no longer slaves. From now on you are,” a slow smile spread across your lips, “staff. You are our staff.”

“Staff?” she murmured. “Like… like Cook?”

“Yes, though you will be Household Staff, while we have Kitchen Staff, and Laundry Staff already. If something is requested of you, you do not desire to do, you can say no.”

Her head whipped up. “Oh, I couldn’t!”

“You can, and you will. As you are now Head of Household Staff, you will need to learn to say no.” You lifted your chin and smiled. Her face held a flush of amazement, and her eyes were a little stunned. “Are you satisfied with your accommodations? I’m not sure where you were sleeping, or if you even have rooms? We’ll see about getting all of you proper attire so that you can be distinguished in your service, as well as set yourselves apart from the others.”

“Queen Sváfa! It’s too much!” Terra gasped.

“No.” You shook your head and crossed the room to stand at her side and take her hand. “It’s not enough. Not nearly enough. Slavery is... I don’t have a word that can adequately describe how much I hate the fact it still exists. That you’ve lived most your life as a slave… sickens me.”

“It’s all I know.”

“It shouldn’t be.” You squeezed her fingers. “I would like you to take a minute before you go and make a list for me. Everyone’s names, there strengths and weaknesses, and where you feel they are best suited for work or what kind of work they prefer. We’ll see if we can accommodate them. Now, are your quarters decent? Where are you housed?”

“Down… down by the kitchen. We each have a room and a bed. It,” she ducked her chin, “is more than most of us have ever had. I spent many years sleeping on the floor before the hearth, like a dog.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, and you knew the conversation was hitting a little too close to home for him.

“As long as you are comfortable and warm and your chambers have everything you need, then that’s what matters. Would you mind if I visited tomorrow? To see if you need anything else?”

“Of course!” she nodded. “Cook has always been kind. I think she felt… ashamed of our arrival. She always treated us like… people, not property.”

“Good,” you smiled. “I’ll get you some paper for that list.” If you swept a tear from your cheek as you went, making sure she wouldn’t see it, neither super soldier called you on your moment of weakness.

***

When the women returned with pitchers of ale and plates laden with food, they plopped it all on the work table they'd been using and promptly dug in.

It was Jesslyn who poured a tankard of ale and brought it to Steve, sorting papers on the desk.

“You can read our language?” she asked curiously.

Steve just tapped the symbol on the top right corner. “Just matching theses for the moment. Once that's done, I'll try and make sense of who they're from and stack them accordingly.”

She handed him the cup. “It would be simpler to learn our language,” she chuckled. “It is no wonder Selky never knew who was coming or going. This is a mess. And some of these are months old.”

“I'm sure we'll get things sorted.” He set his hand on the pile of papers she was ruffling and saluted her with the cup. “Thanks for this.”

“We live to serve,” she grinned before gaping at his ring. “No. That's not possible.” Jesslyn grabbed for his hand, but Steve pulled it away.

“Problem?” Y/N asked, coming out of nowhere to step between him and Jesslyn.

“He wears the king's ring!” Jesslyn stated, pointing at the large sapphire. “But he can’t! He would have to have…” Her gaze fell on the hilt of the sword Steve had hung over the back of the chair. “ _Randulfr_.”

“How do you know that name?” Steve asked.

“Not many still live in Sváfaland since the castle fell, but there are a few villages. Mine was one of them. People tell stories of Hurgid and his true heir, but none believed he’d ever return,” she bowed her head, “your grace.”

“Your grace?” The others besides Eira came to their feet and turned toward him.

“He's Hurgid’s Heir!” Jesslyn exclaimed. “You can return Sváfaland to what it once was!”

Steve sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe. Someday. But I've got… obligations elsewhere.”

“Obligations? What's more important than your people?” she scoffed.

“All the people of Midgard,” his wife murmured as she settled onto his lap. “Do you know of The Avengers?”

“We have heard stories from merchants of Thor and his band of Midgardians who fight evil. How they defeated Loki when he…” Marget cut herself off when Y/N turned hard eyes her way.

“Be that as it may, it is not Thor who leads. It’s Steve.”

“And Tony,” Steve added.

She nodded. “I know. But it's most often Steve who is tasked with taking down the big bad; though we all work together. Play up each other's strengths. For now, Steve’s needed on Earth. So is Bucky, but they came because I needed them with me.”

“Where you go I go, min vakre skjoldpike,” Steve murmured against her cheek.

“And someone's gotta keep them two outta trouble,” Bucky smirked.

“So you send the Valkyrie to fight these “big bad," and the problem is solved,” Jesslyn shrugged.

“Our rules are clear. The Valkyrjur does not go into battle without the King's approval. No Queen may call the Valkyrjur to war for personal gain, or she can be stripped of her crown and put to death. These laws are in place for a reason. Will I ride out with Steve and the Avengers in the future? Damn right I will. If Thor requests it of me will I call the Valkyrjur to war on Midgard? Absolutely. But I will not break my sacred oath by putting my needs above that of Asgard.”

Steve blinked, having not heard those particular rules before. There seemed to be safeguards in place to keep the Valkyrie from rising up against Asgard, but what if she hadn't returned? Another thought crossed his mind. What if Garry had succeeded, and she'd called the Valkyrjur to his side? Would it have meant her death and the loss of her title? Even though she'd been tricked?

The thought made his blood run cold.

“So Sváfaland is lost? The people must be made to suffer when the Heir finally arrives but is occupied elsewhere?” Jesslyn scowled and shook her head. “That's not fair.”

“No,” Steve squeezed his wife's thigh to stop her from speaking when he could feel her coil up in readiness to stand in his defence, “It isn't. But I'm not Asgardian. I know little to nothing of your laws, or how things are done here. I'm a soldier and a leader, but I'm not a king. And I've had _this_ ,” he held up his hand and the ring on it, “for all of a day, and _that_ ,” he shot his thumb at the sword, “for less than a week. You can't expect me to jump on this bandwagon and roll with all these assumptions.”

Jesslyn looked contrite. “Forgive me. I didn't know.”

Eira leaned closer to Bucky and muttered, “What's a band wagon?”

Bucky snickered but shook his head. “Sorry, doll. That one will take a little explaining.”

Steve ignored them both. “Look, Thor is looking after things. I'm sure if people have issues, or needs they could go to him.”

“Asgard is very big, and the small villages of Sváfaland cannot make the loud noises needed to be heard. It would be better if they had a proxy who could catch the King's ear, your grace,” Ama interjected.

Steve sighed and rubbed his forehead. “If there is time, I will consider speaking with the leader of each village to _discuss_ their issues, but I make no promises.”

“Steve,” Y/N murmured.

He looked into her ethereal eyes. “I can’t do nothing.”

She sighed and gently brushed his cheek. “You're a good man, but you don't need to take on more than you can carry.”

He gave her a wry smile, caught her wrist, and kissed her palm. “Gives me something to do besides sit around and look pretty.”

Bucky snort. “You're not that pretty, punk.”

The woman all gaped at him. “Is there something wrong with your eyes, too?” Brynhildr asked.

Steve fought not to blush as the women all giggled, and Bucky scowled. Shaking his head, Bucky sighed. “You’d think I’d be used to being invisible after all these years.”

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Steve snickered.

“Aww, don’t worry, honey,” Marget murmured as she sauntered toward Bucky and stroked her fingers down his arm. “You bend the knee, and I’ll happily sit on it.”

Bucky smiled for her and cocked a hip. “Yeah, dollface? Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

While she tried to be subtle about it, Eira flinched and dropped her hands to her lap as if she’d lost her appetite.

“Buck,” Steve murmured.

He looked up and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, darlin’. Duty first.”

“I’d like to see just what kind of guard you could be, being a man and all,” Marget smirked as she reached for the dagger on her hip.

Bucky had it out and tapped it against her cheek before she made her hip. “You don’t want to test me, sweetheart.”

“Impressive,” Brynhildr muttered. “But Marget was close. What about now?” She chucked the dagger at Y/N, but Steve already had his shield up, having placed it against the desk. It clanged off the metal and dropped to the paperwork. Steve picked it up and sent it back at her, embedding it in the wall beside Brynhildr's head right to the handle. A second followed when Bucky plowed one into the wall next to her other ear.

“Holy hell,” Jesslyn whispered. “I didn’t even see…”

“It appears your protection is adequate,” Brynhildr said, stepping away from the wall. She turned and tried to pull her dagger from the wood but grunted when it took her a second try and a lot more effort.

“Yeah, and if you ever throw a dagger at your queen again, the one I throw back is going straight through your heart,” Bucky stated as he stalked across the room and yanked his blade from the wood.

“Bucky,” Y/N scolded. “It’s the way of Valkyrie to test each other. This is normal.”

“Don’t care,” Bucky growled, “I’m not a Valkyrie.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned back into Steve who wrapped his arm around her waist. “Perhaps it’s time we break for the day. Steve, Bucky, and I all need to get settled in.”

“We’ve readied your chambers, as well as the one across the hall. All is prepared,” Ama said.

“Excellent. We could all stand some quiet before tonight.” His wife got to her feet and caught his hand, tugging Steve up with her. “Sisters, thank you for your help.”

They all pressed a fist to their hearts, bowed and headed out, taking the food and drink with them.

“I'll see you tonight,” Eira murmured, leaving without looking up, taking her plate with her, the food on it uneaten.

“Least they left the plate of sandwiches,” Y/N said. “I'm starving.”

“Hm,” Steve hummed, thinking about Eira. “What's up with you and Eira, Buck?” he asked as he began gathering his gear.

Bucky shrugged. “She got her knickers in a twist last night when I said Okoye could take down any Valkyrie besides Y/N. Apparently,  being elite means thinking you're better than everyone. I said her prejudice was showing and told her if she got in my way, I wouldn't hesitate to take her out.”

“Jeez, Barnes!” Y/N spat. “For all their knowledge and skill, most Valkyrie are pretty damn sheltered! How was Eira to know the Dora Milaje were elite in their own way?”

“Well maybe they need to get out more,” he huffed.

“And maybe now they will, but you need to give her a break. She's young, and this is all she knows. And for pity's sake, keep it in your pants!”

“What's wrong with flirting?” he shrugged.

“They won't take you seriously if you're nothing but a skirt chaser. I need them to respect you, respect Steve, and see that men are not as inept as they've been led to believe.” She headed for the door, snatching the sandwiches and a pitcher of ale off the table.

Steve grabbed Bucky's arm and shook his head when Buck made to say something more. “She's holding it together by a thread, pal. Leave it be,” he said softly.

Bucky’s face lost some of its hardness when he glanced worriedly after her. “Yeah. Okay.”

“And be careful of Eira. She’s… got a gentle heart. I think you've bruised it pretty good.”

Guilt flashed in Bucky's eyes. “I may have been a little hard on her. But there are too many unknowns, Steve.”

“I know, but so far the people Y/N’s gathered to her, they all seem… genuine.”

“Both of us know how easy it is to fake genuine, Steve. Don't let your guard down.”

“Are you two worrisome old women coming? Or you gonna stand there and gossip like hens?” Y/N called from the doorway.

Bucky glared at Steve. “By a thread, huh?”

Steve gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. “Maybe it's a steel thread.”

Bucky threw a punch Steve dodged, and the two of them followed in her wake.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smexy and fluff, language (when is there not a language warning?)  
> Song: My Gospel by Charlie Puth

## Chapter Thirteen

* * *

Steve still couldn’t get over the whole castle thing. No matter how Y/N protested it was a _keep_ , not a castle, he and Bucky would exchange a look and arch a brow.

It was totally a castle.

They dropped Bucky off at his room and walked into their own through a door of solid oak wrapped in heavy bands of steel. The Queen’s Quarters. A space which hadn’t been used or changed since Y/N had last died, and had been preserved by magic which had been lifted when she’d announced her return.

Steve let out a low whistle at the high stone walls and thick beams which spanned the ceiling. Windows which arched and appeared to be made of leaded glass allowed the sun to spill across the floor on either side of the bed.

It was bigger than a king, sitting on a frame of ornately carved wood. Covered in thick pelts, it looked like something out of a medieval movie, not the current century, but damn if it didn’t appear inviting. The walls held tapestries of battles long gone, paintings of places and worlds he’d never seen nor ever imagined could exist. Shelves held unique knick-knacks, and he wondered if they were things Y/N had collected in the past or if all the rooms held such treasures.

He started tugging on the buckles of his armour as he wandered over to take a closer look. A stunning vase of green glass drew his attention when it changed colour all on its own to a pretty navy blue.

“Damn,” Steve murmured amazed.

“Mistral glass. It responds to person closest to it, changing colour to suit their preference,” Y/N said, taking over to tug his buckles open herself.

“How’s it do that?” he asked, lifting his arm out of her way.

“Magic,” she snickered.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What’s this one?” He pointed at what looked like a spearhead of ancient material.

“Eoter’s pike tip. He was a dark God Odin sent the Valkyrie after when he decided to try and take over a neighbouring world. Tove was newly queen then. The story of Eoter’s defeat is one you’ll likely hear while here.”

He lifted the heavy cuirass off over his head and set it on the floor beside his shield. “And this?” He gently touched the chunk of wood with its chips of paint and partially obscured design.

Y/N’s arms went around his waist, and her forehead landed between his shoulder blades. “Shield, what was left of it, after… after the battle with the Sjeletyv.”

“Baby, why would you keep this?” he asked, turning around to take her by the arms.

“To never forget what we lost.” She sighed and stepped into his chest. “So many died. Some were just maidens. Some had barely begun their lives. I vowed never again. Never again would I allow what happened on that world to happen again. Never again would I fail my people. Yet… here we are, looking at genocide if I can't figure out what's happening here.”

“You're gonna figure it out, doll face. You are,” he reiterated when she sighed. “Let's go over what we know,” he said, scooping her up to take to the big as fuck bed where he dropped her and began working on her boots. “Garry's here somewhere. I can practically smell the little shit. I've been thinking about it for a while. What would have happened if he’d succeeded in bringing you back and tricking you into believing he was me? You said a queen couldn't call the Valkyrjur for personal gain, right? What would have happened if you'd summoned them that day on Earth?”

“I wouldn't have,” she said, propped up on her elbows. “Even if Garry convinced me he was my sjelevenn I wouldn't have done it.”

“Hypothetically. Say you'd been desperate and reached out for help. What would have happened?”

“I would have been disgraced if I'd called them out on you. The Avengers are the good guys. Aiding Hydra would have been seen as a traitorous act against Asgard as Asgard is allied with the Avengers. My title would have been stripped from me, and a council of Valkyrie would have decided my fate. Death most likely for my crime.”

“Even after finding out it was a trick?” He could hardly believe it.

“We have strict rules for a reason, Steve. If someone with evil intentions ruled the Valkyrie, there are few forces which could stop them. I know you and Bucky probably look at them with a little scorn right now, but these women are not the ones I fought with a millennium ago. Yes, they're sloppy and under trained, but that won't last long. Eventually, I'll have them in the shape they should be, then they will return to the unstoppable force they were. A force like that with corrupt leadership could be very dangerous.”

“So if you'd called the Valkyrjur to Earth, they would have killed you? Just like that?”

“It would have been a true death. I would have stood trial; then the temple would have made certain my time as Sváfa never returned. Our journey would have ended. Maybe we’d reunite and start again as sjelevenn, but with how fucked up our path has become… I don't know.”

He pulled off her second boot. “Someone's really trying to get rid of you, baby girl.”

“I know. But it's not the high priestess. At least I don't think so. That other one, Kerse, I can't say the same. Something about her is just… fishy.”

“I agree,” Steve said as he unbuckled her faulds.

“So, no sjelevenn besides Gunborg and now me have returned. There should be at least six of us. The other thing I found odd? Gunborg looks _exactly_ the same as she used too. There are usually subtle differences.  Changes to height and build or hair colour depending on the parents we are born too. But she seems no different than when I last saw her. It's weird.”

“I bet.” He lifted her hips with one hand to tug her faulds from beneath her and reached for her metal breasts. Steve smoothed his hands over them which made her laugh.

“You know I can't feel that.”

“So? I can,” he teased. “What about the fellas in Valhalla?” he asked.

“I don't know. Until I can see the Einherjar for myself, that will remain a mystery.”

Steve gave the buckles beneath her arm a tug. “You people need to invent zippers,” he grumbled. “What happens if the men in Valhalla shouldn't be there? I mean, their technically dead right?”

“If those in Valhalla aren't worthy of being there, they never should have made it past Baldi and Balik. They'd be turned away, the gates would have closed to them, and Ekheart would have taken them to Fólkvangr.”

Steve shook his head and smirked at his wife. “That was a whole lot of names I'm not familiar with.”

She smiled as he pulled her first layer of armour over her head. “Baldi and Balik are the wolves who guard Valhalla’s gates. And Ekheart is the eagle who flies above it. Fólkvangr is where those who don't meet Valhalla's standards go having earned their rest.”

“Like heaven’s consolation prize? Thanks for playing but you didn't quite make it?”

“You don't have to make it sound so horrible! It's not Hel,” she scoffed.

Steve froze and looked up at her face. “Really? Do I want to ask?”

“Unlikely. There are serpents and corpse eating involved. Rather ugly business, really.”

The smile on her face made it hard to figure out whether she was joking or not. “I'm not asking.”

“Then I won't tell,” she snickered. “I believe, Captain, you were in the process striping ne naked.”

“Since when does removing your armour amount to me getting you naked?”

“Since… always,” she laughed.

“Brat,” he muttered.

“Don't start. I can't call you Feathers.”

Steve flipped her to her stomach once he peeled off her leather cuirass and threw it on the floor. “Fuck I love these pants,” he groaned, taking handfuls of her ass while he straddled her thighs.

She smirked and wiggled her hips. “Ditto.”

Tony had reworked her corset of chain mail. Swapped out the metal for vibranium and made the closure a seamless set of hooks he only needed to pass his hand down to attach or run a finger up to undo. It was a genius bit of lowtech Stark was ridiculously proud of and rightfully so.

Steve lifted her up, and the chain mail slithered off the bed to the floor with a shove and a small crash while she tugged her bracers off and pulled her tunic over her head.

All that remained was her undershirt and those sexy pants Steve unlaced before dropping her back to the bed. “If,” he murmured as he placed kisses across her shoulders and gently caressed the backs of her arms, “the men somehow got past the wolves into Valhalla and didn’t belong there, what could you do?”

“Purge. It can be done, but it's difficult. I'd need Odin's approval and the backing of both the Valkyrjur and the Einherjar. And if some of those people don't belong here, or where taken from their rightful afterlife, Steve, I don't know what to do. If they don't belong here, they could be sent to Fólkvangr, but to what end? They wouldn't be at peace. They'd never see their loved ones again.” She gave a heavy sigh and turned her face into the fur.

“We’ll figure it out. Maybe you worry for nothing,” he said, nuzzling the nape of her neck, but he doubted his own words.

***

From the foot of the bed, naked still after their afternoon together, Steve watched his girl as she readied for the night ahead. It was, to say the least, highly stimulating. Instead of leather pants, she’d pulled on a skirt of cognac coloured silk which sat low on her hips. Lace and chains wrapped around her pelvis. Tassels swung, coins and bits of bone chimed together. Her midsection was mostly bare, her breasts confined by what was, to his mind, nothing more than a scarf she hung behind her neck, crossed over her chest, wrapped twice around her ribs and tied in a knot at her back. Heavy necklaces of bead, metal, and bone, feathers and ribbon, and precious stones swung low, brushing the bare space above her navel. A glint of gold beneath them made him smile, finding his gift to her, the locket just like his mother’s, still around her neck.

Bangles of solid bronze, shiny gold, and black stones clung to her upper arms. Her gauntlet had been set aside for the night, but she wasn’t without protection. She had hidden daggers strapped to each thigh, visual ones on each hip, and another tucked into the back of her top above the knot. He’d watched her put up her hair, fluffing it up high in the front while braiding the mass of it down her back. She’d tucked metal cuffs and feathers in along the way, eventually finishing with the crown which proclaimed her what she was.

The Valkyrie Queen.

She looked it tonight, but not like he was used too. When she turned to look at him with her eyes covered in kohl, her lips painted red, and three blue streaks along her right cheekbone, Steve shivered. She was a Warrior Queen. A barbarian. A beautiful and deadly creature he was almost afraid to touch.

“I have something for you,” she said gliding toward him.

Steve swallowed thickly, thankful he’d drawn one of the many pelts over his lap to hide the evidence of his arousal.

She only smiled, soft and knowing. “Do you like my outfit, sjelevenn?’

“Yeah,” he squeaked and cleared his throat. “Yeah, baby. You’re gorgeous, but this is all so different.” He couldn’t help but watch her hips as she swayed to a stop in front of him.

“Stevie,” she purred, tilting his chin up with her finger. “I know this is all really different. If you're uncomfortable at all, tell me.”

“Darlin’, the only part of me that’s uncomfortable doesn’t have time to be dealt with.”

She chuckled, ducked her head, and lightly kissed his lips. “If only.” Still, she settled onto his knee and wiggled just enough to make him groan.

“Stop it, woman,” Steve grumbled.

“As I said, I have something for you.”

She held up the hand not wrapped around his neck. From it hung three strands of thin cord. Silver wrapped sections of each in a staggered pattern, but what looked like porcupine quills, blunt at the tip, capped the ends. The second item, a silver chain complete with a small round pendant, a tree upon its face, also dangled from her fingers.

He arched a brow in query, carefully touching both.

“This was yours, from your mother when you brought me home after we first met,” she said of the pendant. “She said it was a reminder that life was a circle. Birth to death to rebirth. Something which would be quite literal for the two of us. But these,” she ran her thumb over the cord, “I made. One for each life we lived together on Asgard. Every time I found you, I made you a new one. Thinned and tanned the leather, wound the cords, and wrapped the silver.”

“You gonna make me one this time?” he asked, touched by her gift.

“If you want me too,” she murmured, blushing a little. “They mean more to the men of Asgard. Handmade gifts are considered powerful for the time and effort put into them. Magical in a way. Like they have protective properties.”

That clinched it for him. Steve took the cords from her fingers, looped the long lengths once around his neck, and pressed his palm against them over his heart. “Were you planning to make one every life? I think if we’d been together twenty or thirty times, I might run out of space.”

She chuckled and gently stroked her fingertips over his mark. The sensation of her touching it was ridiculously pleasurable and Steve hummed his approval. “I thought at nine I might start adding beads or silver cuffs to keep count. The funny thing though?” she murmured, lifting her gaze to his. “You ask me that every life.”

“I do, do I?” Steve chuckled.

“Every time,” she murmured, gently stroking his mark again.

“Are these some kind of quill?” he asked, flicking his finger over the tip.

Y/N nodded. “From a slark.”

“What’s a slark?”

She blinked once. “Ugh… have you ever seen a platypus?”

Steve frowned. “In pictures.”

“They look kind of like that, but they have this crest of quills they can flare out when startled or when a predator tries to bite them. It’s a nasty surprise for sure. They don’t shed, so to get them you have to catch one or throw a piece of leather on them, so the quills stick. It’s not painful for the slark. Maybe a little stressful, but you pull the leather away, and they trample off into the forest.”

While she was explaining, he gently took the silver pendant in his palm. “It would be neat to see one.”

She closed her hand over his. “Steve, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I kept it for you because it was part of our beginning, and while you share a soul with Helgi, _you_ are not the same person. The beliefs and ways of Asgard aren’t yours. I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m pushing you to be someone your not.”

“But I am,” he said softly. “It’s pretty clear I’m supposed to be here. Hurgid’s sword, the King’s ring, the people of Sváfaland? You.” He looked into her eyes. “As much as you need to be here, I think I do too.”

A quiet sigh slipped from her. “Just… be happy, Steve. Don’t take on the troubles of this world and add them to the burdens you carry at home.”

He chuckled and pulled his hand away to encourage her to help him put on the pendant. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Y/N? That’s just how I roll.”

She snickered, latched the pendant, and cupped his face. Her nails lightly scratched the stubble on his cheeks. “You keep growing this out, and you’re really going to fit in.” Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Any chance I can talk you into lining your eyes?”

It was Steve’s turn to blink at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“With kohl. It’s pretty common for our men, or did you think Loki wore eyeliner because he wants to look pretty?”

“I thought it was a Goth thing,” he mumbled.

“What would you know about Goth things?” Y/N snickered, rising to head back to the table with the mirror she’d used to do her makeup.

“Hey, I can do the Google.”

She snorted and laughed, giggling as she returned to stand before him with a black pencil. “The fact you said, “Do the Google,” just goes to show you can't.” Holding up the pencil, she arched a challenging brow.

“I dunno, babe.” It wasn’t something he’d ever envisioned on himself.

“The men, both of Asgard and those Vikings of Earth, believed it made them fierce and also highly desirable. It might increase your already potent sex appeal, Stevie.” She twirled it around her fingers.

He could feel it, the excitement the idea of this whole kohl thing was giving her, and waffled a little.

“If you hate it, I’ll take it off.”

Steve rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine. Just don’t make me look like Bucky.”

Y/N chuckled. “Close your eyes. I promise you won’t look like Bucky. You’ll look super sexy and dangerous.”

He doubted it but didn’t say so, just let her have her fun. It wouldn’t hurt anything to indulge her, and it could be removed when she finished having her way. When the pencil dragged along his upper lid then out toward his temple before she lifted it to repeat the process on his lower lid and down his cheek, he smirked a little. “Having fun?” he asked as she ran her finger over the mark, smudging things he supposed.

“You have no idea,” she murmured, but the hard clench and wave of her desire had his eyes popping open.

“Really?” he asked, but it wasn’t necessary for her to answer. He could feel the heat bloom in her belly. How the desire caused her breasts to tingle and her nipples to harden. Her pupils expanded to fill her irises, and her breath caught.

“I’m… going to need a minute,” she murmured and stepped back, stealing the pelt from his lap as she went. “Ho, wow.”

His body had calmed only to respond to her increase in arousal, and he sat there half hard, getting harder by the second. She gulped a swallow, her eyes running over his whole body. “Even… even if you don’t want to wear it publicly, you need to wear it privately at least once. Could you just…” She motioned to his lap.

Steve wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. They both hissed loudly.

“Okay, okay. You need to stop. We don’t have time to deal with that right now.” She fanned her face, her cheeks incredibly flushed.

“Then you’d best stop looking at me like that,” Steve growled, rising to his feet to stalk toward her.

“I can’t help it!” she moaned, backing away. “You look fucking hot!”

She backed all the way into the table with the mirror, and Steve glanced at it only to do a double take. “Holy shit…”

“I know right!” Y/N squealed.

The dark liner looked odd on his face, but it made his eyes a vibrant blue, and he could see why the men would wear it to appear fierce in battle. It was basically warpaint. “That’s… crazy.”

“So? You gonna keep it?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.

He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to his chest, his cock hard between them. “If I do? What do I get out of it?”

She bit her bottom lip, a tempting little tease. “Babe, you can have whatever you want.”

Steve grinned wide. “Anything?”

Her nails traced a path down his chest and scratched over his nipple. “Anything.”

He took a second glance in the mirror. With the thin cords and the silver chain hanging against his bare chest, and the look of her all warrior woman beside him, Steve gave in with a nod. They fit. “When in Rome, right?”

Y/N gave a happy shriek and pulled away. “Come get dressed. You can do the _anything_ later.”

Steve took a couple of deep breaths, counted backward from twenty, and followed after her once his hard-on settled down enough he knew he could get his pants laced.

***

Bucky looked up when the quiet knock came to his door. “Come in.”

“Am I disturbing you?” Eira asked as she stuck her head in the door.

High and braided and full of ornaments, Bucky had to smile when her hair swung forward. Her dark locks looked like soft silk where they hung loosely around her. Two lines of blue paint traversed her face from hairline to chin, stopping at her right eyebrow and continuing beneath her right eye. Her eyes were heavy and dark with kohl, her lips a soft pink which made her mouth look lush.

“Nah, I just finished with this.” He motioned to the clothing which still made him slightly giddy. Black leather pants and a dark grey tunic, v-necked with a black cord to lace it closed. He’d made the mistake of taking off the bangle Freyja made him to change shirts and instantly regretted it.

His arm had gone dead. Not numb. Not jerky. Just dead. Straight down right now. He’d put the bangle back on and given his head a shake, vowing not to do that again.

Eira pushed the door all the way open, and Bucky had to swallow the saliva which pooled swiftly in his mouth. Dark green lace. She wore nothing but dark green lace and strategically placed jewelry. Thick, full necklaces of metal and stone hid her breasts, but the idea she could bend over and show them to the world made him incredibly uncomfortable. So did the streak of possessiveness which raced through him.

Should he be feeling possessive about a woman’s breasts? A woman who wasn’t his?

When she turned to shut the door, he damn near groaned. Her back was bare but for a tale of lace in a triangle worked with bits of gold. Her skirt sat low on her hips in the same green lace, double layered and much less see-through, while a belt of looped gold chains hugged where he had the sudden urge to place his hands.

“What in the hell are you wearing?” was not what he planned on spitting at her.

She pressed her palms to her stomach, one clutching a small box. “This is my favourite dress for my off nights. You… you don’t like it?”

He liked it a little too much if the tightening of his pants was anything to go by. “It’s not that,” Bucky murmured, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I guess I was expecting something more like what you wore last night.”

“Oh,” she smiled and relaxed, and made her way toward him. “Yes, that was quite different. But Asgard is stuffy like that. Do your Earthly women not dress this way?”

“Nope.” The P popped when his voice rose at her approach. She looked far too confident in her getup for him to be comfortable. It wasn't until she was closer he realized the lace was panelled in the front and not as sheer as he'd thought. Still, her skin looked incredibly soft. Her eyes were big and bright, made all the bluer by the paint on her face.

“What would they wear?” she asked, sinking down to sit next to him.

She smelled fucking incredible. Bucky hadn’t noticed it earlier, or even last night, but she’d clearly bathed because she smelled of something delicate, soft, and inviting. Like flowers in a meadow after a rain.

Bucky wanted to touch her hair, her waist, her mouth. For all his flirting with Magret, he hadn’t had the same reaction to that woman as he was to the gentle one sitting beside him. “Uh, well for one the skirts are a lot shorter.”

Her eyes widened. “That seems… odd. How are you to fight if your dress is so short your ass is exposed when you kick your first opponent?”

“Well, most of our women don’t fight, and the ones who do have figured it out,” he chuckled, thinking of Natasha. “Most of them wouldn’t wander around with such a risky shirt. What happens if you bend over?”

“A little side breast is considered scandalous, but one can just flash their ass and undergarments?” Eira shook her head. “Breasts are for feeding one’s children. Legs are for enticing one’s lover.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at her. “I assure you, darlin’. Breasts work just as well for enticing one’s lover.”

She arched a brow in speculation. “I suppose that is true. Perhaps I’ve lived among women too long.” Eira stood, her skirt split to show off her legs. “Perhaps I should take a lover.”

He nearly swallowed his tongue. “Never had one?”

“I’ve been busy,” she huffed, tapping a finger against her lips. “Thoughts for another day.” Eira turned toward him and held up the box. “It’s commonplace for our men to be painted. I was wondering if you’d be interested?”

Bucky eyed her warily. “Explain what painted means?”

“Eyes darkened with kohl. The God Loki wears it, or he does when he is here, though I believe he had his eyes lightly lined in Asgard as well. It’s considered appealing sexually while also making one look battle hardened and fierce. It would suit you,” she said softly, eyeing him from behind her lashes.

Her pleasure in the idea was evident, but Bucky shook his head. “I really can’t.”

“Why?” Her nose scrunched adorably with her confusion.

He sighed softly. “Too many bad memories. At one point, the Winter Soldier worked for Hydra, and not because I wanted to. They did to me what they did to Y/N, except when they wiped my memory, it worked. I had no knowledge of Steve or my life, only flashes of memories. Snippets. Pieces. Nothing that made sense. They’d point me at a target, and I’d kill it. Until they pointed me at Steve and I… couldn’t. They made me wear a mask, a muzzle really, and always darkened my eyes to prevent glare when I was shooting. The idea of seeing that face again…” He shuddered.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry.” Her hand landed on his and squeezed. “May I ask how they did it? A single line or all over?”

“All over,” he frowned.

“I see. I won’t pressure you to change your mind. There are some in Valhalla who also don’t wear it. You won’t be the only one.”

“I sincerely doubt Y/N will convince Steve if she even bothers to ask.”

Eira nodded. “You’re probably right. It was only a thought. Though you look very nice as you are, might I make a suggestion?”

“Sure, dollface,” Bucky agreed, knowing it would take a while to get used to their ways and clothing.

“Stand up,” she urged and set her box down.

He obliged her, observing as she loosened the ties on his tunic.

“There is no need to be so laced up here. We are much more… relaxed than Asgard. Eat, drink, and celebrate. That’s what feasting in Valhalla is all about. We are a laid back people. For the Einherjar, this is heaven. They earned their place. We only serve and visit within the sacred walls.” She turned away and picked up the wide belt he hadn’t been able to figure out how to do up.

Eira wrapped it around his waist and began to tie an intricate and beautiful knot with the long leather laces. “It’s against the rules to carry a sword in Valhalla. The Einherjar hang their swords on the walls outside the building as they come in from the fields. But you can bring as many daggers as you wish. You’ll want one at least to eat with.”

“No utensils in Valhalla?” Bucky teased.

“There are, but usually the men are rather… eager,” she snickered. “Using a fork my get you heckled.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She finished the tie and lifted her hands. They hovered for a moment before landing lightly on his chest. “And your knees together?”

She said it with a softness, a hesitation and bit of uncertainty he didn't understand. Was she merely repeating what Y/N teased him about, or was their more to her question that he was currently missing?

Bucky peered down at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. “Yeah, doll.”

A shiver wracked her body. “I’m sorry about yesterday, and this morning,” she whispered. “I was childish and closed minded. There is so much more to the universe than I am aware of. I should not have been so quick to judge what I do not know.”

God! The girl was killing him with how sweet she was. Just gentle and soft. Yet, he’d watched her fight today in awe and a sense of pride. “My opinion shouldn’t matter so much.”

“Your opinion matters most of all,” she said so quietly he almost missed it.

Bucky took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up. “Why?” Something swam in her eyes, an emotion he couldn’t quite decipher. “Eira?”

She went from the _something_ to uncertain to afraid. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“That’s not gonna fly, baby girl. We barely know each other. Why would it matter what I think of you?”

Her eyes closed and she swallowed thickly. “Because… because I think-”

A familiar fist banged on the door. “Buck! Move your ass!”

“Punk! Keep your panties on!” Bucky snarled at the door, then returned his gaze to Eira. “We’re not through talking about this.”

She gave a resigned nod. “I know. I just don’t think you’re going to be happy about it.” She pulled her face away and went to open the door. “Oh… wow,” she breathed once she had, her hand flying to her mouth. “You look… incredible!”

Bucky thought she was speaking to Y/N, but it was Steve who laughed and walked through the door.

“Damn, son!” Bucky laughed. “So that’s what it’s like!” Y/N had convinced him to wear the kohl. “You going native on me?”

“Don’t laugh. You’re next,” Steve smirked.

“Steve,” Bucky instantly sobered. “No.”

Steve’s smile fell away. “Okay, Buck. No pressure.”

“One is better than none,” Y/N snickered as she slipped in beside Steve.

Bucky whistled at the sight of her. “Fuck me sideways. You look amazing!”

“Thanks, Barnes.” She gave the ties on his shirt a tug and forced it open a little more. “Better.”

“She did the same with me,” Steve snickered. “Though with a lot more aggression.”

He motioned to the tunic open nearly to the top of his pants. Sleeves pushed back, Steve’s arm-ring gleamed in the light, his sapphire ring sparkled, and with the addition of the tattoo on his neck and the kohl-lined eyes, Bucky could only shake his head. “Damn. If only the team could see you know. Grow your hair out some, and they really wouldn’t recognize you.”

Steve shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “It seems I’m going to be a man of two worlds. Get used to it.”

“He can get used to it over dinner. We need to go. There’s the Blessing and the Rite of Nine to see to first, and we can’t be late,” Y/N said, shooing all of them toward the door. “Eira, you look lovely.”

Eira blushed and ducked her chin. “Thank you, my queen. I’m off rotation at the moment.”

“Good. You can sit with us for dinner.” Y/N patted Eira’s arm, linked them together and shot a smirk at Bucky. “You can explain the eccentricities of Valhalla to Bucky.”

Eira giggled softly. “I shall do my best. I’m sure many in Valhalla will be glad to see you.”

“Yes, there are a few I look forward to seeing again.”

Y/N smiled in the way that always reminded Bucky of Loki, causing him to exchange a glance with Steve. Steve just rolled his eyes and smirked, apparently content to go with the flow.

“No swords, huh?” he murmured to Steve.

“No. You packing?”

“More blades than Barton has arrows.”

Steve chuckled. “I may have half that many. Let’s hope we won’t need them.”

“You’d better not have just jinxed us, punk,” Bucky grumbled, lightly touching the twin blades on his thigh.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mostly fluff and stuff  
> Song: Roar by Katy Perry

## Chapter Fourteen

* * *

You led the way with Eira chattering excitedly, and you thought, as if she were trying to distract you from the fact something had been going on with Bucky when you and Steve had arrived. Eira didn’t yet understand the depth of your ability to _see_ what was happening around you when you focused without sight, but you knew something had been going on in that room before your arrival. People didn’t stand that close together without it meaning something.

Still, there were too many things happening already to focus on whatever flirtation was going on between Bucky and Eira. Though you worried a little he may be getting in over his head, Bucky and Eira were adults and had the right to make their own decisions.

Striding out the back of the keep through a pair of double doors, you joined the other Valkyrie all dressed in a similar style, some showing more skin, some less, as you made your way to the open field before the hall of Valhalla. Torches lined the route, evening having turned quickly into dusk when the sun fell behind the mountains. The valley plunged swiftly into shadows at night, making the pathway lights necessary.

A bonfire was lit and crackling before the raised platform Freyja’s priestesses gathered around. Upon it, eight women in pure white dresses stood waiting, four to either side, lined up one behind the other. Bound to their necks by thick golden collars, the dresses were sleeveless and fluttered lightly around their feet. Each wore a headdress of white wings, and gold bangles glittered on their upper arms and wrists. Gold paint outlined their kohl darkened eyes making them gleam mysteriously.

The one called Kerse stood to the right holding a blazing torch, a mirror to the woman on the left. The pair behind them held a bundle of feathers. The next set held pitchers you knew would contain water from the pure glacier stream. And finally, the last pair carried small copper bowls full of salt. They stood still and unmoving as the Valkyrjur gathered.

“Y/N,” Steve murmured, standing close to your back, his big body radiating enough heat to keep the chill off. “What is this?”

“The Rite of Nine. Nine priestesses perform the sacrifices to Freyja. It’s often performed when a Queen’s Challenge has been called and there is unrest among Valkyrjur. Or when a battle has come with many casualties. Its magic draws the Gods notice and works to bind us together as one people,” you said, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“Sacrifice?” he grumbled, clearly remembering the goat comment from your wedding.

“Nothing living,” you giggled. “Promise.”

He only grunted and fell silent when Willa the High Priestess appeared out of the dark at the back of the platform, slowly making her way up the stairs in her heavy cream robes. Her headdress remained the horns and black wings of earlier, and the same dress as her attendants graced her body, but a heavy robe with long draped sleeves covered her arms. Large rings of gold and amber graced her fingers, and thick bangles of beaten gold graced her wrists when she raised her hands to the heavens.

Two of the attendants on the ground before the platform lifted a shallow copper tub to set at Willa’s feet. It balanced on three legs, reflecting the flickering firelight from its shiny surface.

“Hail to you, O Gods! We gather here for a holy purpose,” Willa began, her hands still lifted as Kerse and her counterpart came slowly forward. “To take the fire from the anger in our world.”

Each woman upended her torch into the copper tub. Fire leaped from within like a living thing, bursting into a blaze of searing white and blue flames. The heat was intense when Kerse and her companion returned to the end of the line, and the next two women stepped forward.

“To take the wind from the quarrels in our halls.” Without looking, Willa plucked a feather from each bundle, one white and one black, and held them high. The women moved away to be replaced by the two holding the pitchers of water. Into each, Willa plunged the feathers. “To take the tears from those bruised and battered.” She fed the wet feathers to the flames as the water bearers moved away.

The final set of women came forward and held out their bowls. “To take the earth out from beneath the cycle of vengeance.” Willa took salt in each hand and threw it into the flames. “We call upon you, O Gods, to bring frith to the spaces between each of us. Let eyes be opened, let hearts be quieted, let hands be joined, let horns be shared, for we know in our hearts that we work better together than when our own shortsightedness separates us. We come to you today open to your wisdom, and we hail you in this great and painful task. Hail!”

You opened your mouth and shouted, “ _Hail_!” along with everyone else in attendance.

“Hail to the wisdom of Freyja!” Willa continued, her hands high as the fire began to lessen slowly, and smoke swirled into the air. The incense and other things inside the tub which had caused it to blaze so strongly began to fill the air with their fragrance of pine and sandalwood. “A family of Valkyrie is like a stronghold, walled with trust and loyalty and shared passions, and this is a fine thing. Hail to you Freyja, Sovereign queen, fairest Vanadis in all things beauty finding.” She removed the ring of amber from her right hand and held it over the flame before letting it fall. “Show us the beauty in ourselves and each other.”

Taking the ring from her left hand, she held it out. “Lady of love, giving passion without prejudice. For all that lives, you show respect and compassion. For all that dies, you show honour and reverence.” She let the softening metal fall. The flames changed from white and blue to yellow and orange, and the smoke began to twist and curl.

“Even as we sacrifice in faith to you, so do you sacrifice to mysteries beyond.” Willa pulled a dagger from her waist and slashed it over her palm, allowing her blood to drip into the flames. “And the blood which binds us each to another, to gods and ancestors, thus binds us to all beings.” The flames flashed red. “Within that cycle, round like our world you show us that we each live and love and die and in doing so, we are all much the same. Hail!”

Again you shouted, “ _Hail_!” with the rest of your sisters beginning to feel the flow of the magic when it moved through the crowd like the smoke now curling overhead.

“Freyja, Goddess of gold, inspire us.” Willa removed the bangle of beaten gold from her right wrist and added it to the fire. “Teach us to walk through our day with pride, with confidence, and with power. Goddess of fiery passion, bless us with the insight to the marrow of our bones that we become Valkyrie of worth in your eyes, in the eyes of our fallen sisters, and of ourselves.

May we radiate this and transform all we meet.” She took the bangle from her left wrist and held it out over the fire as her gaze swept the gathered Valkyrjur. “Hear our prayer for this day, oh great and powerful Goddess, that we may mirror your presence in our life.” The softening metal dripped once before she dropped it into the flames, causing them to flair high and burn into bright shining gold.

As one, the women of the temple began to chant, “You see our hearts, and we are seen. You hear our words, and we are heard. You feel our fears, our foes, our flight. You fathom deep our path and plight. Hail Freya, shining Goddess of gold!”

A final shout of, “ _Hail_!” echoed through the valley.

A loud whoop and raucous cheer showed you weren’t the only one feeling the draw of camaraderie in the magic and laughed as you reached out and hugged Eira. “It’s been too long,” you murmured as she hugged you back. “I have missed this.”

“Welcome home, sister-kin,” she said, squeezing you tightly.

“Sváfa, Queen of the Valkyrjur. It is time,” Willa called.

You released Eira to turn toward the platform and make your way forward, Bucky and Steve to either side of you. When you reached the front, the women parted, and Steve easily lifted you to stand beside Willa. The golden fire burned merrily beside you when you made to kneel before the High Priestess.

Then, out of the darkness surrounding the gathering, the bugle of a pegasus sounded. People scattered to get out of the way when nine white shapes swept down from the sky and landed between the host of the Valkyrjur and the temple maidens surrounding the platform. At the sides of two of the three were colts the colour of smoke, their coats not yet faded to white.

“Mares,” Willa breathed in awe as a ripple of wonder washed through the crowd.

***

Y/N inhaled and her heart leapt in excitement, prompting Steve’s to follow, but it was Bucky who nudged Eira and muttered, “Huh?”

“The mares never leave the valley. To see nine together, here, now, is a blessing or a miracle,” Eira whispered, awe apparent in her tone.

The leader stepped forward, a white so pure she appeared to glow like a ghost in the firelight. She walked through the women bowing out of her way to stop beside Steve. Her large dark eye assessed him for a moment, and in it, he saw wisdom beyond what an animal should have. It was like peering into the ages and seeing time unravel before him. 

“Wow you’re pretty,” he whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.

She stretched her neck out, arching it up to brush her soft muzzle over his cheek and whickered in his ear. Then she batted her lashes at him and lipped at his shirt. Y/N’s soft snicker had him looking at his girl, even as he reached out and stroked the mare’s neck.

“She thinks you’re rather pretty too, for a human.”

He chuckled and smirked at Y/N who tilted her head respectfully to the mare.

“What can I do for you Lady Mother?”

There was a repeat performance of when Steve had watched Y/N interact with Hemme the first time as the mare nodded, and whickered, and dug at the ground. Steve moved closer to Eira and Bucky - who appeared to be utterly fascinating to the colt at the side of one of the other mares.

She was a dapple; her hide silvery grey and white. The foal looked barely old enough to walk let alone fly, but it was snuffling Bucky as if he had sugar in his pockets and eventually butted his head against Bucky’s hip until the amused man used his gloved hand to scratch the tufted mane on the foal's neck.

“Oh, wow!” Eira whispered, too intent on the mare speaking with Y/N to pay much attention.

“What?” Steve asked quietly, wishing they’d thought to include horse in the language spell of Loki’s.

“She just welcomed home Freyja’s… _daughter_. She called Sváfa the Queen they have been waiting for. She has the blessing and the backing of the mares.” Eira’s hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.

“What’s that mean?” Bucky asked her, scratching the foal’s chin.

“That the Valkyries standing against her better fall in line, or they will have no mounts,” Eira smiled deviously. “This is great!”

“I don’t understand,” Steve murmured, watching Y/N’s eyes widen in surprise before she gave a little half bow to the mare.

Eira shot him a glance. “No stallion will stand against the will of the Mares. They are the leaders of Pegasi society. What they say goes. Inmara, the one speaking with Sváfa is as much a queen to her herd as Sváfa is to us.”

“So-” Bucky began to speak only to be interrupted when the eight mares waiting for the one Eira named Inmara spread their wings and rose up on their hind legs to trumpet a skull-rattling bellow into the sky.

From the barns an answering bellow erupted, this one easily discernible as Hemme, Steve having heard his voice more than once.

“Guess they spread the word,” Bucky chuckled.

“Yes. The warning has been given. Any Pegasus who’s rider stands against the Queen will not be welcome back to the herd.” Eira looked downright giddy.

Steve exchanged a glance with Bucky. Just because they’d been warned, didn’t mean that was the end of it. Someone had been using magic, powerful and dark, to get what they wanted for a thousand years. He highly doubted losing access to their pegasus would make them hesitate.

The mare returned to the others, and a quiet whicker had the foal at Bucky’s side returning to his damn. The three with their colts, tiny wings spread wide and full of fluffy down, left first, confirming for Steve that there was as much magic at play in a pegasus’ wings as there was in the rest of them. Inmara turned her dark eye on him, and Steve could have sworn she preened a little as she arched her neck and spread her wings to take off with the others, disappearing into the shadows of the night.

“Well,” Y/N chuckled as she looked over her people. “That was exciting.”

“All hail the High Queen!” someone shouted from the back.

“Freyja’s daughter reigns!” screamed another.

“The Valkyrjur is again blessed!” cried a third.

The chant of _Sváfa, Sváfa, Sváfa_ soon drowned out everything as Y/N stood on the platform, a smirk on her lips and hands planted on her hips. Then she held them up, calling for silence. “Sisters! Time grows short! Let us finish so we may celebrate this momentous day in Valhalla!”

She turned to Willa who, though somewhat stunned-looking, smiled at her when Y/N knelt before her. One of the women from before who still held the bundle of feathers came forward and held it out to Y/N who turned her face toward the fire and chose one at random.

Long and wide and dark with bands of white, she handed it to Willa who held it aloft. “The feather of the Great Eagle Ekheart, familiar of Odin, and Guardian of the Gates of Valhalla!” She took it and swept it back and forth through the flames. “In Freyja’s blessed fire we consecrate it, asking the Goddess to look upon the woman who is Queen of the Valkyrjur with favour. We welcome the return of Sváfa, Daughter of Tove. Chosen daughter of Freyja. Long may she reign!”

“Long may she reign!” shouted the hoard.

Willa drew the feather from the flames and hesitated, a sharp gasp easily heard by Steve’s ears left her. The black and white feather was no more. Now one of pure gold remained. She held it up for all to see. “Freyja, Goddess of Gold, shows her favour!”

The women around him broke out in cheers and screams of delight.

“Is that not supposed to happen?” Steve leaned down and asked Eira as nine women with bows and cotton-tipped arrows made their way toward the raging bonfire.

“No. Never.” Eira shook her head, grinning as Y/N took the feather and added it to one of her braids. Then the archers caught her attention, and she patted his arm excitedly. “Watch this! Watch this!”

The women lit their arrows and turned to face the dark hall. As one they lifted their bows and aimed. He’d watched Clint loose enough arrows to know the draw they took was a heavy one. Then the hair rose on the back of his neck, and he shot a hard look at Bucky who went stalk still and stiff in the same instant.

“Steve, I got a feeling,” Bucky murmured as the women released their arrows.

“Be ready,” Steve said, his body tightening as he sent a glance toward his girl. She was looking at him, a frown on her face.

“Dammit!” Bucky hissed, and Steve whipped back around to look.

Out of the nine arrows, four had gone out, disappearing in the dark. Then the wind shifted. Now it was blowing back at them. Back at… “Y/N!”

Steve turned and sprinted the three steps he needed to leap to the platform, Bucky a step behind. A sharp whistling could be heard coming closer. He snapped his hands out, Bucky followed suit, each grabbing a pair of arrows before they could slam into the chest of his girl.

“Oh, Goddess!” Willa gasped, stumbling away as the priestesses closest to them shrieked in fear.

In the background, five huge bowls exploded into flame. Four lit up on the ground, one on the roof of the hall, but by that point, everyone’s eyes were on them.

Steve and Bucky drew their hands back, but Y/N never moved. She stood tall, controlled, and proud; steadfast in the face of danger. It was then he knew she’d _seen_ the arrows, likely before he or Bucky had, and had waited for them to do what they were there for. To watch her back and protect her, and prove they could.

“Your majesty!” Eira cried.

She held up her hands. “I’m fine. Must have been… an accident. A shift in the wind.”

She looked directly at him, and Steve scanned the crowd. Eventually, his gaze landed on Kerse whose clenched fists betrayed her involvement. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but that woman was responsible. He looked away before she noticed, and handed the arrows to Bucky. “Darlin’?”

“I’m fine, Steven. I have exceptionally skilled protection.” She smiled at Bucky but stepped into Steve and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Sisters! If you wouldn’t mind trying again? I’m sure there won’t be a repeat of this… incident.”

Bucky arched his brow but handed the arrows to Eira when she reached for them.

This time when the four who’d _missed_ fired off their arrows, they stayed lit and landed in the two remaining bowls on the roof, and the two flanking the doors. The front of the hall glowed and out of the darkness to either side, two pairs of yellow eyes appeared. Each set belonged to a gigantic wolf who padded forward to lay down in the glow of the fires.

Then a screech had Steve’s head snapping up when the eagle flew over and flapped wildly as it settled to the peak of the hall’s roof.

“Holy…” Steve whispered.

“Shit,” Bucky finished.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Y/N giggled. “Wait till you see the inside.” She nodded to Willa. “Thank you, High Priestess.”

“My Queen,” she nodded back and held out her hand to be wrapped by one of her people.

“Sisters! It is time!” Y/N called out, causing the group at large to turn and head for the hall.

Excitement rushed through her and in turn through Steve. He jumped down with Buck and reached for her. She set her hands on his shoulders and bent as she was, her breasts hung temptingly close to his face, a fact he knew she knew well when she gave a little shimmy and slid seductively down his body.

“Tease,” he growled.

“Keep it in your pants, pal,” Bucky muttered. “I’m still feelin’ that itch.”

“Yeah?” Steve hummed irrately and tucked his girl in close to his side.

“I doubt it’s me you’re itching about, Buck,” she said as they picked up Eira and headed for the hall where the doors were slowly swinging open. “But they may make your hair stand on end.” She indicated the two wolves who seemed to be watching over the women as they passed through Valhalla’s gates. “You’re neither dead nor Valkyrie. They may react to your request to enter, but that’s why you have me.”

“Stick with me,” Eira said, wrapping her hand around Bucky’s wrist. “I’ll make sure Baldi and Balik allow you entry. But Sváfa must deal with Ekheart.”

They all looked up at the eagle whose partially spread wings made it look menacing.

“He’s a sweetie,” Sváfa said. “Sometimes.”

“You’re wearing his feather. I’m sure that counts for something,” Steve said, keeping his arm around his girl, even when the wolves ears perked up and their attention turned to him and Bucky.

“Show them your mark,” Y/N said.

Steve lifted his chin, letting the light of the fire land on the tattoo. The wolves turned their intense gold eyes on Bucky.

“He stands as my guard and is the brother to my sjelevenn. He is welcome to visit Valhalla, but will not be staying,” Y/N decreed as they came to a halt between two of the fires.

The bowls they blazed in were even bigger than Steve had thought, but so was the hall. The doors were as tall as a redwood and wider even than the ones of Asgard. They were of wood, carved and heavy with animals and marks and knots, unlike anything he’d seen before. Two braisers burned on the walls of the hall, while three highlighted the roof. But it was the scream of the eagle upon its peak that made him flinch.

It spread its wings, and half floated half fell to land before the doors with a hiss like an angry snake. Its wings flared up, high and wide, barring the way. The ground tore up when it dug its talons into the earth, ones big enough and strong enough to easily kill a man.

Y/N slipped out from beneath his arm and walked toward the angry beast. At three times her height, she looked tiny before it, and the big sharp curved beak gave him unholy images of her being snapped in half, but her heart was calm in his chest.

“Ekheart!” she cried, joy in her voice. “Stop being a bully and come here.”

The bird looked momentarily annoyed, then huffed something akin to a sigh when it folded its wings and lowered its head.

She placed a hand on his beak, then moved forward to stroke her fingers over his feathered face. It became clear the feather which now graced her hair had come from Ekheart’s face as ones from the wings would have been much larger. The eagle made a weird chirping sound before closing its eyes in apparent bliss.

It made her giggle. “You big softy. Out of the way now. The Einherjar await.”

The eagle spread his wings and launched itself into the air, returning to the roof.

“Damn,” Bucky muttered, staring after it. “No wonder things like that ljå and playing with the Hulk never phased her. They seem to grow ’em big here.”

Y/N turned to face them, her smile wide. Steve had to swallow down the hard jolt of lust that shot through him. She stood highlighted by the fires to either side of her and the light streaming from the open doors at her back in an outfit which made his libido sing. “Come, husband,” she smiled and held out her hand. “Let me show you… heaven.”

***

Bucky snorted out a laugh, but you couldn’t help it if it was corny. Valhalla was heaven, at least for some. The idea of showing it in all its glory to Steve filled you with excitement.

His strides toward you were long, that confident strut he used when he was all “Captain” on full display. Dressed as he was with his guy-liner making the blue of his eyes stand out like bits of sky, and the mark on his throat bare for all eyes to see, the streak of lust and possession warmed you right to the core when he took your outstretched hand.

He gave it a sharp tug and pulled you into his body. When he dipped his head, you thought he would kiss you with all the fierce passion you could feel rolling inside him, but his mouth went to your ear instead. “I’ve already seen heaven,” he purred and made you shake with desire.

“Steve,” you whimpered.

“But you can show me Valhalla,” he finished, nipping your earlobe.

“That was cruel,” you pouted when he chuckled and tucked you into his side.

“Nothin’ worse than parading around in that outfit when I know damn well what you aren’t wearing beneath it, baby,” he murmured against your temple, encouraging you onward.

You rolled your eyes but led the way past Baldi and Balik. Though you looked and acted relaxed, you were under no misconceptions that someone hadn’t tried to kill you tonight. You’d felt the pull of subtle magic the moment before the arrows vanished. Well versed to playing with Clint, you knew you could have moved out of the way quickly enough, but when Steve went on alert, and then he and Bucky were in motion, you knew it was better to let them show their prowess. Which they had spectacularly, plucking four arrows out of the night without so much as a scratch on either them or you.

Kerse’s heart had betrayed her a second time, as had the clench of her hands and flex of her jaw when the attack she’d instigated failed. But until you had more answers, the why and the how, you couldn’t call her on it.

You wrapped your arm around Steve’s waist and headed inside with him. There was a distinct glow from the Valgrind Gates which kept people who were not meant to see inside from doing so. It did nothing to keep you or Steve out though, and you paused just through it to wait for Bucky and Eira.

Steve was already speechless, and when Bucky gasped and stared up, you giggled, a sound repeated by Eira.

Just beyond the gates stood the tree Læraðr whose trunk was wider than any tree you’d seen in any life. The roots split at the base of the trunk, holding it up as if it could walk on many spindly spider legs, leaving an opening beneath it which led into the hall. It was more than double the height of Steve or Bucky, leaving ample space for the four of you to walk abreast.

“Is that a goat?” Bucky asked.

“And a deer?” Steve added.

Eira laughed. “The stag is Eikþyrnir. From his antlers drip the life-giving waters which flow down the tree and feed the spring Hvergelmir from which flows forth all the waters of Asgard. The goat is Heiðrún. From her do we get the mead which fills the cauldron from which the Einherjar drink each night. Both eat the leaves and blossoms of Læraðr.”

You walked beneath the tree close to the roots and held out your hands to catch the trickling water in your palms. When you brought the water to your lips, it was fresh and cold and as delicious as you remembered.

“It’s good?” Steve asked, peering at you curiously, partially shadowed beneath the roots.

You filled your palms again and held them out to him. “Try it.”

Steve’s big hands cupped yours, and he held them gently as he sipped from your palms. “Wow,” he murmured, licking his lips.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Eira in a similar act with Bucky. The look they exchanged almost made you smirk, but you held it back and shook the water from your fingers. “More will be served with the feast, but I’ve always found it tastes best this way.”

“I thought the tree was supposed to be on top of Valhalla,” Steve asked reaching out to touch the roots gently.

“What did you do? Read the Poetic Eddas?” you asked with a grin.

“When I found myself in love with a Valkyrie? Yeah, I did,” he smirked, tugging you close to him again. “Though I think someone may have been drinking when they wrote it.”

“Poetic license and all that. The tree helps hold up the roof in actuality,” you smirked and traced your fingers down his bare chest. “You’re very tactile tonight, sjelevenn.”

“You look ridiculously sexy. I want everyone knowing where you belong, so no one gets the stupid idea to offer you a knee, min vakre skjoldpike,” he growled softly and ducked his head to bite your pulse point.

“Mmm, Steve,” you purred. “Come. There is more to show you.” You pulled away and led him through the roots, avoiding the water that occasionally dripped as it flowed into two narrow streams which rushed further into Valhalla. The streams ran the outside edge of the hall, and wherever a doorway opened, a bridge spanned the flowing water.

But it was walking into the as of yet empty hall that had the men slowing to a stop again. Tables with benches lay spread out like a sea before you. Each was covered in a feast worthy of a king with pitchers of mead and water set upon them. Plates of gold and cups of the same gleamed in the light from the overhead chandeliers of rustic wood and iron. Chainmail and fur covered the benches. The walls were hung with images of battle. Spear shafts held up the roof thatched with shields.

“My God,” Steve whispered, awe in his voice.

“Valhalla has five hundred and forty rooms for the men to use at their leisure. Some are halls like this. The rest vary. Some are magic and become what the men need in the moment. They may wait for Ragnarok, but we do not want them to grow bored either.” You motioned to the far end of the hall where doors and corridors led away.

“There’s more to this place, isn’t there?” Bucky asked. “It’s _way_ bigger than it should be when you look at it from the outside. And where are the men? The Einherjar? How come we didn’t see them around today?”

“That is because Valhalla exists in two realms. In Asgard, it's a hall for which the men of worth can enter through the Gates of Valgrind, pass beneath Læraðr, and enter into Valhalla. From here, they go to their rooms within the hall and are greeted by their brethren. But when the sun rises tomorrow, they head out those doors.” You pointed toward the right where three gigantic ones of heavy oak stood closed. They were surrounded in massive stone arches and guarded by Valkyrie dressed in white battle gear. At least here things had not changed so much. “That way leads to Glaðsheimr, the realm of the dead of Valhalla. There the fields renew daily, returning to their former glory after the battles waged tear up the earth and leave the land bloodied. There are horses and dogs, forges to create weapons, lakes and rivers to swim in. Many of the Valkyrhur spend their leisure time in Glaðsheimr, and Odin often visits.”

“He used to,” Eira corrected. “He has been absent of late. Thor and Loki took his place for a while, but they have also been… away.”

“Odin didn’t tell me that,” you murmured, but then if there was something wrong with the Einherjar, on top of the Valkyrie, he might have found coming here untenable now.

“What is Ragnarok?” Bucky asked.

“Humans believe it is a series of future events. A great battle will be waged which will ultimately result in the death of many of the gods, including Odin, Thor, Heimdall, and Loki. There will also be the occurrence of various natural disasters, and the subsequent submersion of Midgard in water. Afterward, the world will resurface anew and fertile, the surviving and returning gods will meet, and two human survivors will repopulate the world,” Eira explained.

“But that was as much poetic license as anything else written in the Poetic Eddas. Ragnarok is the end of _this_ world. It is the destruction of Asgard, not Midgard. Possibly by Surtur. He is a fire demon and the ruler of Muspelheim. Odin defeated him and stole from him the Eternal Flame and source of Surtur’s power before banishing him and his entire race,” you finished, heading through the tables, nodding here and there to the women completing the evening’s set up.

“So… it will never come?” Steve frowned.

You shrugged. “Anything is possible. Surtur is an immortal demon. Even though he is powerless, it does not mean he’s given up.”

It was Bucky’s turn to frown. “Wait. Muspelheim? Isn’t that where Heimdall said the dragons came from?”

“Yes. Fire dragons,” you nodded. “But that was during the alignment of Midgard, K’un-Lun, and Muspelheim. A fluke. Besides, I think you could handle a few dragons,” you smirked at him.

“I’d rather not,” he grumbled. “Those Chitauri flying worm things Steve fought were bad enough.”

“I’d protect you,” Eira smiled. “Dragons are fast but stupid. A sword through the eye and they are down for good. Pegasi are much faster. Røyke and I would have no problem taking on a dragon.”

“Knights sure look different in this land, hey Buck?” Steve teased, making you giggle.

“We’re here,” you said before Bucky could respond, indicating the table set beneath the Valkyrie banner.

“Why did I expect a throne?” Steve chuckled, nodding toward the big one at the end of the hall.

“Don’t know,” you teased. “Maybe because I’m queen? But that one is Odin’s.” You made your way around the far side, so you were facing the doors the Einherjar would return through.

“So why don’t you?” Bucky asked.

“I am only a Valkyrie in Valhalla, even if I am queen. In three days, I will serve as those who wait for the Einherjar will serve tonight.” You accepted Steve’s hand as he helped you step over the bench and sat for the first time in centuries in the Hall of Valhalla.

It was surreal and made you feel a little giddy. Then the doors to Glaðsheimr began to open and a host of laughing, joking men stomped through. They started spreading out to seek their seats until one set of sharp eyes, blue like the ice of a glacier swept over your table, swept back, and froze.

The look had your chin lifting as the man the eyes belonged to stalked toward your table at a quick clip. Fierce blue tattoos covered the sides of his skull. A thick, heavy braid hung down his spine. A well-kept beard covered his chin. He wore the dress of an ancient Viking and dropped to a knee before he reached the table. “Queen of the Valkyries. You have finally returned.”

You stood slowly to smile down at him. “Well met, Ragnar, son of Lothbrok. It has been an age.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, blood, violence  
> Song: Demons by Jacob Lee
> 
> There are a lot of references to the TV show Vikings in this chapter. If you haven’t seen it, watch it. Vikings is amazing but very bloody. Still, I tried to make sure there are descriptions for people, and more will be explained in later chapters because while Bucky has seen the show, Steve hasn’t.

## Chapter Fifteen

* * *

“Och,” Ragnar scoffed as he stood to his feet, a slightly twisted half smile on his face. He flicked his fingers dismissively. “So formal. One would think you'd be more… _expressive_ after so long apart.”

You belted out a laugh and used Steve's shoulder to jump up on the bench and launch yourself over the table at him. The man grabbed you around the waist and spun you twice in a circle, laughing uproariously as he did.

“By the Gods, I missed you, Sváfa,” he murmured against your ear before laying a smacking kiss on your cheek.

You framed his face with your hands and grinned up at him. “You're well?”

He shrugged. “As can be expected.” Ragnar's attention shifted to Steve and Bucky as he tugged you firmly against him. “Did you bring fresh fodder for my sword, Sváfa my love?”

“Excuse me?” Steve growled, pushing slowly to his feet. “Mind taking your hands off my wife.”

“Well, now,” Ragnar grinned deviously. “You caught yourself a possessive one this time. Still, I think I'll keep my hands right where they are.”

He nuzzled his nose against your neck. “Ragnar, teasing my sjelevenn is a poor idea in any life, but this life, in particular, it's especially bad.”

“Come now, Sváfa. He does not look so tough,” a new voice purred.

You turned your head to smile at Ivar. “You should know better than to judge a person by their looks, Ivar.”

“I could take him.”

You rolled your eyes at Bjorn. “Unlikely. You could barely beat a bear.”

Bjorn frowned, but Ivar and Ragnar chuckled.

“Did you tell him about us, Sváfa, sweet queen?” Ivar asked, yanking you away from his father to pull you into his chest.

Your hands landed on his broad shoulders, and you arched a brow as you looked into his bright blue eyes. His grin was the same as it had always been, smug and a little wicked. Thick braids fell to his shoulders, pulled back in a tail at his nape. “If you’d like to have your ass handed to you, Ivar, just keep this up.”

Ivar looked past you, raked his gaze over Steve, and let you go. “Perhaps another day.”

Bjorn sauntered closer to the table, set his hands on the edge and leaned toward Steve. “I don’t know, Sváfa. He looks… weak to me.”

Steve shot you a look. “Darlin’?”

“Up to you, Steve.”

His fist plowed into Bjorn's face and sent the large blond Viking tumbling over backward, head over feet to land at yours.

You crouched down and patted Bjorn's cheek, his nose bloody and crooked. “Still think he's weak?” you asked as you cracked his nose back into place.

Bjorn flexed his jaw and ran his tongue around his teeth. “How is it he punches me in the nose, but I now have two loose teeth?”

“Practice,” Steve and Bucky said at the same time.

Ragnar helped you back to your feet, but his attention remained on Steve who’d crossed his arms and was glaring at Bjorn. “Perhaps I have underestimated your sjelevenn.”

“People often do,” you smiled at Steve.

His gaze shifted to you, and a smirk twitched his lips. “You should come back over here, my shield maiden.”

“What if we wish to keep her?” Ivar said, his hand wrapped around your waist and fingers dug into your flesh.

“You want to keep your hands, you’ll take them off my girl,” Steve growled.

“Ivar,” you warned.

“Now, now, Sváfa. I’ve missed you on my knee,” Ivar purred. “ _Spill med søt valkyrie. Sjalusi er bra for en mann._ ”

***

Steve clenched his teeth. _Play along sweet Valkyrie. Jealousy is good for a man_. The man was baiting him, but he was too smug, his smile too cruel. Steve didn’t like how this Ivar was manhandling his girl.

She was relaxed and highly amused, but a little excitement hummed inside her. It appeared his girl liked it when he was possessive. Steve was beginning to understand this was a primitive place where instincts and impulses ruled. Where one was judged on the strength of their sword arm and character, rather than the diplomacy of words. It stirred something inside him he'd forced down years ago. The need to fight. The hot rush of desire to prove he was bigger, stronger, smarter than the shrimp body everyone saw first.

His hand went to Bucky’s shoulder as he stepped up on the bench and leaped the table as easily as she had, landing where the one she’d called Bjorn rolled swiftly out of the way.

“Take. Your hands. Off. My girl.” He spoke slowly as if to someone hard of understanding.

Those bright blue eyes lit up with challenge. “And if I won’t?”

Steve held up a hand and cocked his head. “Son, I already punched your brother. Don’t make me embarrass your ass.”

“Just don’t, man,” Bucky snickered. “He pulled that punch. He won’t pull this one.”

Ivar grinned as he ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth. He spun Y/N out of the way, back into Ragnar and lunged, knife out.

Steve shifted so the blade went past him, slammed his fist into Ivar's elbow and drove his elbow into Ivar's face. He caught the knife before it hit the ground and had it pressed to the man's throat before Ivar's head had snapped back.

Bjorn lunged next, but Steve planted his heel in the man's chest and sent him sailing into the group of watching men, bowling them all down.

Excitement lit Ivar's eyes when Steve turned his attention back. “I like this one, Sváfa,” he giggled and held up his hands while blood poured from his nose.

Steve arched a brow as he pulled back, gave the knife a flip and held it out. “You have strange friends, Y/N.”

“Keep it,” Ivar smirked. “A token for beating Ivar the Boneless.”

“Like… the History channel's Ivar the Boneless?” Bucky asked, perking up.

“Exactly!” Y/N laughed moving away from Ragnar to step into Steve's side. “Though they are better looking here than there.”

Ragnar's sly smile spread. “Do they tell tales of us, Sváfa, queen of my heart?”

Steve wrapped a possessive hand around her waist and tossed Bucky the knife. “Only recently. Vikings are a popular subject matter.” Not that he’d ever watched the show, but Bucky and Nat were fascinated by it. Then he bent and whispered in his girl's ear, “My lap is lonely, sweetheart.”

She giggled, but a streak of desire lit her up. “Is it now?”

“Very,” he purred, cupping her chin to tilt her face to his and lay a searing kiss on her lips.

When he released her, she opened lust-hazed eyes. “Possessive and territorial. I like it,” she smiled before glancing at a grinning Ragnar. “Why don't you and your sons join us, Ragnar. I'm sure you'll enjoy hearing tales of your grandeur in the modern age.”

“I'm also curious how you are here but have not been here till now,” Ragnar murmured. “Ubbe!” he shouted, drawing the attention of the man lifting Bjorn to his feet. “We dine with the queen. Where is Hvitserk?”

“Here, Father,” a fourth man said, striding forward with a Valkyrie Steve didn't know on his arm.

“We feast with Sváfa. Behave yourself,” Ragnar growled.

The Valkyrie paused then pressed a kiss to Hvitserk's cheek. “I'll see you later, warrior,” she purred and walked away.

“Queen Sváfa,” the new man smiled and reached for her hand.

“Her sjelevenn is a possessive one, brother. All of us will have bloody faces by the end of the feast if you are not cautious,” Ivar warned, wiping the blood from his on his sleeve.

“Loose teeth and a few broken ribs,” Bjorn coughed. “It has been an age since I've felt such a blow.” He clapped his hand down on the one called Ubbe's shoulder. “If he can swing a sword or axe with any skill, he would make a keen addition to the Einherjar.”

“Unlike a few of the recent additions,” Ubbe said, smiling at Y/N. “Queen Sváfa. As beautiful as always.”

“But deadly as ever I am sure,” giggled a new voice.

Steve turned with her and felt her joy as she pulled away and threw her arms around the new arrival.

“Floki! I've missed you!”

He carefully hugged her back. “Will the steely-eyed blond break my nose too if my hug lingers, Sváfa dear?”

“Not if you don't make snide innuendos,” Steve grumbled.

“Come on, pal,” Bucky chuckled, spinning and rolling Ivar's dagger over his hand. “Lighten up.”

“Easy for you to say, punk. They ain't flirting with your girl.”

“Alright, Steven,” Y/N laughed returning to his side and ushering him around the table to sit between him and Bucky. “This is Ragnar Lothbrok, the greatest warrior I had ever seen the likes of.”

Ragnar held out his hand. “Forgive me for teasing, but Sváfa has been like a daughter to me for some time.”

Steve accepted the offer, clasping the man's forearm in a firm grip. “Forgiven. Most people don't have the balls to try.”

“You forget they don't know who you are, Steve. Ha!” Bucky laughed. “There's a change.”

“When Ragnar died, I rode out for him myself,” she said, ignoring Bucky. “Ivar, Bjorn, Hvitserk, and Ubbe are his sons. Floki is his brother, though they share no blood between them.”

There was nothing different about the way she said Ubbe, but it was clear from the shot of distaste he’d just received she didn't much care for the man. “Well met.”

“Are you famous Steven son of…?” Ivar cocked his head.

“Rogers,” he murmured and smiled a little smugly. “You could say that.”

“He is Hurgid's true heir and King of Sváfaland,” Eira said proudly.

All six men gaped at him. “Odin has told tales of Hurgid.” Ragnar sounded impressed.

“He's also one of Midgard's greatest protectors and Thor's companion. As is Bucky,” Y/N said with a smirk.

“I cry foul then!” Ivar slammed his fist down on the table. “You did not say he was a God, Sváfa! How unfair of you.”

“I'm just a man, not a God. And my God certainly doesn't dress like Thor,” Steve said, causing Ragnar to peer at him curiously.

“Are you Christian?”

“I was raised Catholic.”

“Same God,” Y/N clarified.

“Not this again, Father,” Bjorn sighed.

“I am dead, that does not mean I am without curiosity,” Ragnar huffed.

“So, Athelstan was real?” Bucky asked, leaning forward.

“You know of him?” Ragnar sounded surprised.

“The stories of you are quite… thorough,” Y/N chuckled. “Though they take a few artistic liberties I’m sure. Though that speech of yours when you were waiting for death, they got most of that right.”

“Really?” Excitement laced Bucky's tone.

“I particularly liked, “I welcome the Valkyries who summon me home!’” she giggled. “Was I glorious in your eyes, Ragnar?”

He reached across the table past platters of meat and burning candles to take her hand. The memory seemed to live in his eyes, vivid and intense. “I rose to nine Valkyrie, the most beautiful of all holding her hand out to me to take me on her black steed and wing our way home. Had the Saxons known what I did, they would have slit their throats just to see the vision of you.”

She’d changed the subject. When Steve swept his gaze down the table, he could see why. All the men besides Ivar were glowering into their cups. It appeared Athelstan and religion were sore subjects.

Spread out across from them, Ragnar sat in the middle with the one she called Floki to his left. Like Steve, Floki wore heavy kohl on his eyes, but he had a long thick beard, a mostly shaven head, and runes of some kind tattooed along the sides of his skull. A dense fur cloak covered his shoulders making it nearly impossible to gauge the man’s size. He stared into his cup, unwilling or unable to look up.

To Floki’s left was Bjorn, the big blond bear of a man. The size of him would give Thor a run for his money. He drank and ate with apparent appetite and enthusiasm, while Ubbe his brother, dark blond hair worn similar to all the others, seemed more interested in catching Eira’s attention than eating. Maybe it was just Y/N’s dislike of him, but Steve was finding this Ubbe too slick for his taste.

To the right of Ragnar sat Ivar who picked leisurely at the platter of meat, eventually filling his plate. There was something about him, something dangerous, cruel, but intelligent, which warned Steve not to turn his back on Ivar the Boneless, a name he didn’t understand for Ivar appeared perfectly healthy. The one called Hvitserk seemed more inclined to straddle the bench and drink, holding out his cup to each passing Valkyrie while bouncing his knee in invitation.

So far, Steve wasn’t impressed with these Vikings, though Ragnar seemed a decent fellow.

“She’s always a vision,” Steve said, sliding his fingers over Y/N’s bare back.

“Flatterer,” Y/N snickered and dropped an enormous leg of some creature on his plate. She added bread, something that looked like cheese, and more. “Eat. We don’t stand on ceremony in Valhalla.”

“And if you do not eat quickly, Bjorn will,” Ragnar chuckled.

“I may be dead, but I still like food.” Bjorn bit a hunk out of a chunk of meat and winked at Y/N.

“So,” Y/N set her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me all the dirt, Ragnar.”

“Would you have me gossip about my brothers, Sváfa?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and began to eat. “Well-”

The clang of a gong had all of them looking toward the throne at the end of the hall where a flash of lightning and a golden glow appeared, lighting up the end of the room. When it faded, Odin stood before the throne with Thor to one side and Loki to the other.

Odin appeared the same as always in his heavy gold armour, but Thor and Loki looked completely different. Dark leather, thick gold chains, fur, and heavy metal breastplates.

_Barbarian Gods._ That’s what they looked like to Steve. These men he could see the Vikings believing in.

“Loki,” Floki whispered in awe.

“Odin,” the brother’s all breathed.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Y/N growled.

“Hail the Gods of Asgard!” cried the men of the Einherjar.

“Feast, my warriors. Fill your bellies. For tomorrow, you may fight for Asgard at Ragnarok!” Odin bellowed.

The hall erupted in cheers.

“Sváfa, daughter of my heart, Queen of the Valkyries has returned. Let your voices lift in greeting,” Odin murmured. Somehow, though his voice was quiet, it carried through the hall from corner to corner.

“Hail, Queen of the Valkyries!”

Anger rolled in her middle, and in turn Steve’s, as Y/N stood slowly to her feet. “All-Father. How _blessed_ we are to have you join us.”

***

You were going to kill them. One by one. Just maim the lot of them.

“How could we not, Sváfa darling,” Loki smirked. “It’s been so very long since you’ve been able to feast in Valhalla.”

“It would have been unthinkable to miss it,” Thor agreed.

“Well, don’t I feel honoured?” you all but growled.

“Excellent! You should,” Loki snickered.

Odin sat his attention on Steve. “Steven, son of Rogers. Tomorrow you will ride a hunt with me.”

You gasped and looked at Steve in amazement. “Sjelevenn?”

He stood, and half bowed. “At your command, All-Father.”

“Hm,” Odin nodded. “Feast, men and women of the Einherjar. Thor, tell a tale of your glory with the one who is Hurgid’s true heir.”

Steve sat, but when you made to join him, he tugged you into his lap.

“Now I know you are a God,” Ivar smirked. “Friends with Thor and Loki? Riding a hunt with Odin? You are no mortal man.”

“He’s a man. Not so sure about mortal,” Bucky quipped. “He’s pretty hard to kill.”

Thor’s voice carried in the background, but you tuned him out. The story of Ultron and the battle of the Metal Men had been told before.

“And what of you?” Ragnar asked.

“This one is different,” Floki murmured, staring at Bucky. “He has seen much in his life. His eyes are old though his body is young.”

“Not that young,” Steve snickered.

“Watch it, punk, or we’ll really give these Vikings a show.”

“You speak as if you are something, but your name is not the one which passes Thor’s lips. Nor does Odin invite you to hunt.”

Ubbe’s snide remark made Eira gasp.

“He defeated Ama with little effort. He stands as Sváfa’s chosen guard and proved himself capable of protecting her just tonight. Not all of us have grand tales, but it doesn’t mean we are any less worthy!” Eira snapped.

“Eira,” Bucky murmured. “It’s fine. What stories I have to tell, I share with those I want to. Not those I don’t.”

“Barnes is an essential part of our team. He stood with Sváfa against the last Sjeletyv. If it is a tale of grandeur you are looking for, have him tell that one.”

You looked up to find Loki standing at your back. “Ugagn, come to join us?”

“Father wishes you to join him.” Loki held out his hand. “Before the entertainment begins and one can no longer hear oneself think over the noise.”

Steve’s arm momentarily tightened around your waist.

“I’ll be right back, Steven,” you purred, kissing him softly. You drew your fingers down his bare chest as you stood and took Loki’s hand. “Play nice,” you warned the table at large but shot Ivar a deadly look.

“You always pick on me, Sváfa,” Ivar pouted.

“Because you always cause trouble.” Linking your arm through Loki’s, you moved with the God of Mischief toward the throne at the end of the hall. “What the hell are you three doing here?”

“Added distraction. Tell me what you know.”

“Not much.” You gave him the short version, same as what you’d discussed with Steve. “Least Thor doesn’t owe anyone a Smedlheim cloak anymore.”

“And that?” He tilted his chin toward the table of loud men. Gunborg held court in the middle; her displeased sjelevenn looking on.

“I’m figuring it out. There are ten thousand Einherjar, Loki! Ten thousand! How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” Loki murmured. “I feel as if it went from four to seven very quickly. Then there was a lag of time, and the number jumped again.”

“It doesn’t make sense. Where did they all come from?”

“That is for you to figure out.”

“You’re so helpful,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “You should know we suspect Garry is here somewhere.”

Loki’s back went ramrod straight. “And why, darling sister, would you think that?”

“Because Selky knew of my blindness before I arrived. I’m sure you made it perfectly clear why you were making Garry suffer while you had him.”

“Mm,” Loki hummed. “Well, I wanted him to be aware of his crimes.”

“Find him, Loki. I give you free access to the keep and the grounds. I will see the High Priestess allows you access to the Temple though I can’t guarantee she’ll allow you full access.”

“Partial will be enough. If he is here, I will find him.” He handed you up the stairs to Odin’s side where you sat on a bench near his knee.

“Sváfa.”

“All-Father.”

Amusement lit his one eye. “Are you angry with me, daughter? I promise to bring you sjelevenn back… mostly intact.”

“Steve can take care of himself. You should not be here.”

“Valhalla is mine. You have not the right to tell me when I can and cannot visit.”

You turned angrily toward him. “And I cannot figure out what the hell is going on here with you three meddling!”

“Meddling.” He leaned toward you. “No, Sváfa. We offer you a distraction and a way to oversee what happens here. And after the brazen attack on your person, do you think either of my sons would allow us to remain in the city?”

“Ugh,” you huffed. You should have known he would be watching after invoking the Gods tonight. “You’re like worrying old women.”

“Perhaps. Look out over the hall, daughter. Tell me what your Valkyrie eyes see that mine cannot.”

You tried to be subtle about it, glancing from table to table while keeping your body turned toward Odin. The longer you looked, the sicker to your stomach you felt. “What the hell have they done…”

“Tell me what you see.”

“More than half the Einherjar do not belong here.”

“Then how did they get past Baldi, Balik, and Ekheart?”

Shaking your head, you looked up at him. “No, you don’t understand. They are worthy souls, or most are. Some… some should not be here at all. I can’t tell you how they found their way into Valhalla, not yet, but others.” You swallowed hard. “It’s as I feared. The souls filling the tables of your hall, they don’t belong here. They don’t follow the old ways. They are not like Ragnar and his sons. They never worship you as a God.”

“Then why were they collected for my hall?”

“I don’t have those answers. Not yet. But I will,” you vowed. “I will figure it out. When I do, what will you do? These men. They can’t be sent to the afterlife they were meant for.”

“They may stay if they choose. If they will fight for me when Ragnarok comes. Those who wish peace can go with Ekheart, but you are right. There is no way for me to send them where they should be. Those who cannot accept that? I can purge from existence. They will be given a true death. If their suffering is great, perhaps they will choose that road. But none here seem unhappy with their fate.”

“It’s easy to put on a carefree face. That doesn’t mean you feel carefree. I’ll speak to Ragnar. Tomorrow while you spirit my husband away, I’ll visit with the Einherjar and see what I can find out. Even if they won’t speak to me, they may speak to Bucky.”

“Mm, the other soldier. There is a darkness in him as well.”

“Controlled darkness. The Winter Soldier. Even with it, his soul is worthy to sit at your table.”

He arched a brow. “I believe you, daughter. You should return to your sjelevenn. He has the look of Hurgid. The same glare.”

“He’s not the man you knew. He’s not the same man I knew as Helgi.”

“No, but then I did not expect him to be.”

“You know what Loki did, what he had to do,” you murmured, looking up at Odin. “And I know Steven can take care of himself, but please don’t let him get hurt. I know how your hunts can get.”

The harshness of his face softened into an indulgent smile. “We ride for a hart, daughter, not a boar. As long as he can stay on his horse, he will be perfectly fine.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, rising to descend the stairs as Thor finished his story to a mighty cheer.

***

Bucky chuckled at the look on Ubbe’s face. Ignoring his utensils, he ate with his hands as Bjorn was doing. “Steve and I went with her,” he said, speaking with his mouthful in a way he knew his mother would be horrified by. “Killed a bunch of foot soldiers. Y/N took out the ljå after dumbass tried to get himself eaten.”

“I did not!” Steve huffed.

“You took a rock to the face and gave the bitch an opening. Yeah, you damn well did.” Bucky smirked at her when Eira snickered.

“She was just nasty,” Steve grumbled, tearing into the leg of whatever kind of meat they were eating. “What a stench.”

Bucky chuckled to himself, finding it amusing that Steve had gone full native. Scrappy Steve was back. The little guy who wasn’t afraid to throw a punch no matter how big the opponent. Y/N had tugged at a few of Steve’s demons, not that they were big ones, just ones Bucky knew Steve had leashed when he’d become Cap.

There were certain aspects of Steve’s personality which didn’t click with the image he projected in public. If he chose to let those parts of himself back out while here, if he ran a little wild in Valhalla, well, Bucky was all for it.

It would be kind of fun to watch Steve surprise the hell out of people. At least this time, he was big enough to back up his bark. Bucky wouldn’t have to step in and kick a little ass when Steve snapped at someone bigger than him. Though if they tried something like that two on one again, Bucky would be wading in.

“Tch!” Ragnar huffed. “That is no way to tell a tale of glory. It was too short, without detail!”

“A terrible story,” Ubbe agreed. “I think, little Valkyrie, you should come sit by my side and hear a story worth listening too.” He pushed back and patted his knee.

“I’m perfectly content where I am,” Eira sniffed and picked at her meal, clearly uncomfortable.

“Come now, Eira. You always say no,” Ubbe sniped. “You know you want to. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Eira lifted her chin and glared him down. “The only way I look at you is with contempt, Ubbe. The answer is no, and it will always be no.”

“Haughty bitch,” Ubbe muttered.

“There’s no call for that,” Steve snarled. “If the lady doesn’t like you, that’s her prerogative. Or have things changed so much in Valhalla a Valkyrie no longer has the right to say no?”

“Of course she does,” Ragnar answered, glaring at his son. “Entice one of the Valkyrie who actually wants you, boy, and leave sweet Eira alone.”

“Besides. Why would she want to sit with you when she’s got the best seat in the house right here?” Bucky quipped, draping his arm around Eira’s shoulders. She leaned into him a tiny bit, and Bucky felt that possessive streak ripple through him again. He was really starting to dislike this _Ubbe_.

“You seem mighty cocky for a man no one has ever seen fight.”

Bucky glanced down the table at Hvitserk and let the Soldier fill his face. “Try me.”

Ivar arched a brow and grinned. “Hvitserk, I think you should play nice with Sváfa’s guests.”

“I was just sayin-”

He never got to finish _just saying_ anything when Bucky palmed a short dagger and sent it flying down the table. It pierced Hvitserk’s cup to the hilt in the space between his pointer and middle finger. “There’s plenty more if you want to keep talking.”

The cup fell from Hvitserk’s hand in shock. “That was… incredible!”

Bucky shrugged. “I gotta thing for knives.”

Then Eira jumped and snapped in outrage, “Ubbe! I said no!”

“Eira?” Bucky frowned.

“He put his foot up my skirt.”

Bucky was throwing the punch before he realized it. A punch with his left hand. One he pulled at the last moment so as not to shatter Ubbe’s jaw. He still knocked the man clean off the bench and was lunging over the table after him when Y/N returned.

“Bucky!” she gasped.

But all he could see was red as he wailed on Ubbe. “Where I come from,” he punched Ubbe with his flesh hand, “when a woman says no,” he punched him again, “it means fucking no!”

Then Steve was there dragging him off the bloodied man. “Jesus, Buck!”

“It’s not like I can kill him, Steve!” He lunged for Ubbe again.

“Barnes!” Y/N snapped. “Stand down.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Of course, my queen.”

An unholy rage seemed to cloak Y/N as she stalked around the table and stopped beside Eira who as on her feet wringing her hands together. “Eira. Did Ubbe touch you without permission?”

“I declined his company, my queen. The advance was most certainly unwanted.” She pulled her hands apart and clenched her fists at her sides, going from concerned to commanding in an instant.

Eira looked at him, a mixture of pride and pleasure and gratitude in her eyes. Desire punched Bucky in the gut and nearly made him groan.

“He’s quite unconscious, Ragnar,” Floki giggled. “This Bucky, son of Barnes, reminds me of Leif. A man of honour.”

“High praise indeed, Floki,” Y/N said. “Ragnar. Your son is no longer welcome at my table.”

“As it should be, my queen.” Ragnar bowed his head in apology. “Hvitserk, Bjorn. Take your brother to his room.”

“Yes, Father.”

Both stood and grabbed Ubbe by the arm to drag him away while Steve and Y/N resumed their seats, but Bucky only had eyes for Eira. 

“You alright?” he asked reaching to touch her cheek only to leave a bloody smear behind when he pulled his hand away. Eyes widening in distress, Bucky muttered, “Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that. Got blood on your face.”

Eira captured his wrist and brought his hand back to her cheek. “Blood has never bothered me. And while I thank you for the rescue, I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

Her opposite hand rose to land on his chest, the tips of her fingers just skimming his bared skin. “Of that, I have no doubt. I watched you fight today. That doesn’t mean I won’t stand up for you if I feel like it.”

“Maybe I’ll let you if I feel like it,” she smirked and lifted her chin.

“Baby girl, you got a smart mouth?”

She grinned a little wider. “When I feel like it.”

“I think I see why sweet Eira rejected Ubbe’s advances,” Ragnar snickered.

Eira blushed and looked shyly away. “I’ll… get a cloth for your hands, Sergeant Barnes.”

She hurried off over one of the bridges and through an open archway before Bucky could say anything. He sat beside Y/N with a thump and vowed to ignore the rest of them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, slight angst  
> Song: Give Me A Sign by The Sweeplings (for the end of the chapter)

## Chapter Sixteen

* * *

Eira stood in the kitchen area out of the way of her sisters returning to the feast with fresh platters of meat and gently wiped the blood from her cheek. Her heart thumped in her chest. Every time Bucky touched her, she felt it all the way to her soul.

She hadn’t noticed him on Midgard, too concerned with Loki and making sure Y/N knew she’d objected to the treatment of the God, but before the steps of Asgard, she’d looked up, and he’d been standing at her queen’s side. Tall. Dark. Commanding. 

Something inside her had leapt at seeing him. Her whole body felt as if it bent toward him in that instant. She’d had to look away before she did something crazy, like jump on him. Then the confrontation had escalated, forcing her to prioritize the Queen’s return over her muddled up feelings.

Later that night when she’d tried to sort them out again, she’d embarrassed herself at the feast instead. Loki had created a stunning dress, different but beautiful, and she’d felt so strong. So confident and powerful, and after finally working up the courage to ask him to dance, she’d successfully stuck her foot right in her mouth.

Narrow-minded and näive. That’s what she’d been. Bucky had been right to scold her for it, but dancing with him, being that close, looking into those amazing blue-grey eyes, the yearning to stay in his embrace forever had been so intense. Then, she’d played herself a fool.

It had been evident by his warning words he wasn’t interested in anything other than making sure Y/N stayed safe and protected. He thought Eira a child and immature in his eyes.

It had hurt so much. He was such a warrior, one she would be proud to name hers, but the implied rejection stung. She was a Valkyrie, one many a male had tried to entice to their knee, but none had caught her attention until him. Bucky.

James. Y/N had called him James more than once.

To make matters worse, Eira had let her hurt get the best of her when they’d flown together, making an even bigger fool of herself, and topping it off with a reprimand by the queen. 

She just kept making mistakes.

She’d thought she’d impressed him, maybe, during the mock fights today, but when he’d flirted with Magret at lunch...

Off to the side in the kitchen Eira hid her eyes behind the rag, feeling them burn with tears she’d thought she’d finished shedding earlier in the day. An extra long bath had been required when she’d cried so hard she’d reddened her eyes. So many times she’d thought about stepping back, letting go, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Her soul ached at the thought of it. Pain tore at her body and tears flooded her eyes.

She didn’t know how to tell him. She’d tired before dinner. Before they were interrupted, and Eira was grateful for that. After all, she wasn’t even sure he was her sjelevenn. It wasn’t as if she could ask many people. Only Gunborg, who she didn’t dare, not with how the woman was at odds with the queen, or Y/N.

Y/N who’d made it clear Bucky had one job. He was her guard. He was to keep his knees together. He was her protector and didn’t need outside distractions.

Eira understood that. She did. It didn’t stop her heart from leaping every time Bucky entered a room, or touched her hand, or smiled at her.

_Is this what it’s like? A never-ending desire to be with him? By his side? To protect him from any and all harm?_

“Eira!”

She snapped her head up at the cook’s yell.

“If you’re going to spend your off time in the kitchens, you may as well be serving. Out with you!”

She scurried out, taking the damp cloth with her, but slipped into an alcove off to one side where she was out of the way but couldn’t yet see the hall. Couldn’t see the table where the man who’s touched she longed for sat waiting for her to return so he could remove the blood from his hands. Blood he’d spilled in her defence.

Drumbeats fill the air, and Eira sighed. The entertainment was beginning. Entertainment she would take no pleasure in now.

Her heart and mind were too full of worries.

***

You looked up when the drums began and grinned. “Oh, fun!”

“What?” Steve asked.

“It’s the dancers tonight,” you said before drinking deeply from your cup. Valhalla mead tasted as good as you remembered.

Bjorn and Hvitserk returned to the table at a quick clip when two-thirds of the lights in the hall went out. They sat with their backs to the meal, as did Ragnar, Ivar, and Floki. Steve pulled you back into his lap, allowing Bucky to shift closer.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, propping his knee up on the bench when his gaze returned to the doorway Eira had disappeared through.

“Dancers. You’ll like this.” Valkyries rushed to clear much of the food from the tables. More could be requested at any time, but for the moment the space would be needed.

“What kind of dancers?” Steve asked.

“You’ll see!” you snickered, leaning into Steve’s broad chest.

He was warm, and the mead was potent. The music was sultry, building a beat which stirred the blood and subtly aroused the body. They came in ones and twos from the far side of the room, drifting through the hall in skirts of gossamer and silk. Bejewelled and beaded, what fabric encased and supported their breasts threw off sparkles when the candlelight caught them. The drums went silent, allowing the sound of the tiny bells wrapped around their ankles to chime in concert as they walked. It felt as if the room held its breath while the dancers got in position, spread out evenly amongst the tables.

The Valkyrie closest to you caught your eye. She was gorgeous. Ebony hair and skin the colour of caramels. Muscles rippled in her abdomen causing the jewel in her belly button to wink and sparkle. Her eyes were darkly lined and exotic looking. Her hands lifted with the others but contained an extra bit of grace. She pointed her toe and the strips of her skirt to fell to either side of her long bare limb. You knew in an instant she was talented beyond measure.

Too bad her soul was as tainted as Gunborg’s.

Steve made a quiet noise of disgust and chose to nuzzle into your neck rather than pay attention. “Can you dance?”

“Of course,” you chuckled. “I’m a Valkyrie.”

“Maybe you should give me a private one later.”

“Maybe I will,” you agreed, tilting your head to make room for his lips on your throat.

A crash of the drums and the women were off, leaping from the floor to the top of the closest table. They jumped and twirled, making their way through the hall. Each had a set of five tables to entertain, spending just enough time on each to give them men a show before leaping the heads of the warriors seated there to land lightly on the next.

The dark-haired Valkyrie landed on yours with barely a thump, showing off her skill. She spun and dipped and smiled. Her attention returned over and over too Bucky who seemed mostly immune to her charms, even when she dipped down and caressed his cheek. Then she was gone, moving on to entertain the next table, leaving Ragnar and his sons howling after her, cheering her on.

“I don’t like it,” Steve said in your ear. “She’s got something wrong with her, doesn’t she?”

You nodded slowly, watching her spin and move and laugh. She made the circuit three more times before you knew the dancing would come to an end. Often a dancer would choose a partner for the evening once they finished. A lucky man whose knee she’d warm. Those willing to make a choice, stepped from the table for the last part of the dance, weaving and spinning their way around the hall until she came upon the knee she wanted. Those who chose to refrain finished the dance on the tables.

“Sengali!” Bjorn shouted when she landed on the floor. “Let me warm your bed!”

“No, me!” bellowed Hvitserk.

Ivar shoved him from the bench. “She will join me!”

“Why not join a real man?” enticed Ragnar.

Sengali, the dancer, smiled as she dipped and twirled and shook her breasts, putting on a show as she made her way around the table only to drop down on Bucky’s bent knee. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hummed in pleasure. “Tonight I chose this one.”

Bucky sat there with his mouth open, momentarily stunned into immobility. “Uh, what?”

With his hands raised up and outward and how he leaned away from her, he reminded you so strongly of Steve when the woman plopped herself in his lap in Asgard; you snorted a giggle into the silence after the drums ended. “You have the right of refus-”

A jolt of awareness streaked your spine a split second before the rage-filled snarl ripped through the silent hall.

***

With the dancing nearly done, Eira took a deep breath and headed for the hall. It would be rude to return to her seat while they were performing, but she could watch from the bridge as those who wanted a companion for the night made their choices.

When she saw Sengali dancing around the table, her breath froze in her lungs. The Ragnarsons all cheered and called for her attention, but she passed them by. The most elegant of the Valkyrie, when Sengali danced, she had her pick of the warriors of Valhalla. Her body was a walking temptation no man could resist.

Eira’s heart leapt to her throat when she noted the way Bucky was sitting. No, technically it wasn’t an offer. His knee was bent up on the bench so he could lean closer and speak with Steve and Y/N over the noise most likely, but it was an opening. One Sengali seized on as she spun around and planted herself in his lap.

Pain screamed through Eira’s soul. “No.” She denied what her eyes were telling her when Sengali wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck and leaned into him. When he made no move to dismiss the Valkyrie, Eira’s heart cracked, but his raised hands and slightly panicked look spoke more assuredly than his silence.

He didn’t want her. Sengali’s advance was as unwelcome as Ubbe’s had been.

Something feral unfurled within her. Someone was touching her sjelevenn. _Hers_!

She didn’t realize the snarl came from her throat. All she saw was red when she cleared the distance between herself and the table in a leap. Eira grabbed a fistful of Sengali’s hair, yanked her head back until she was forced to release Bucky, and jabbed a dagger pulled from his boot against the other woman's throat.

“ _Hvordan våger du å berøre min sjelevenn_!” she spat at the woman whose eyes went wide in surprise.

“Eira?” Y/N gasped.

Her head snapped up, gaze colliding with that of her queen. “M-majesty…” Eira stuttered. “I-I…” She shot a glance at Bucky, staring at her with an unreadable expression and released Sengali who fell to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Eira whispered, looking from Y/N to Bucky. “I’m sorry.” His dagger slipped from her numb fingers as she began to back away. 

Bucky caught it before it hit the ground.

The silence of the hall had her looking around and cringing at the way everyone was staring at her. “I’m s-sorry!” Turning on her heel, Eira fled for the tree at the end of the room.

***

Bucky’s hard eyes cut to yours. “Did she say sjelevenn? As in the same as you and Steve?”

“How dare you touch my sjelevenn, yes.” You pushed from Steve’s embrace to go after Eira the same time Bucky did. “Sit down.”

“I don’t think so,” he growled. “I wanna know what the fuck just happened!”

“So do I!” you whisper hissed. “She should have declared it the moment you met.”

“So why didn’t she!?”

“I don’t know!” you snapped, making to step over the bench only to realize Sengali was still laying on the floor. “Find a different warrior for the night.”

“Yes, my queen,” she grumbled but stood gracefully. “Your loss, warrior. Burdened as you are with such a… _maiden_ Valkyrie.”

Bucky’s hand shot out, wrapped around her throat, and dragged her toward him. “Say that again, and I’ll snap your neck.”

“Bucky!” you snapped. He released her, but not before fear wafted from Sengali. “Sit down. Eria won’t leave the hall without permission. Let me see if I can sort this out before you go snarl at her.”

“Wasn’t gonna snarl,” he grumbled as he sat beside Steve.

You picked the rag Eira had brought with her off the floor and thrust it at him. “Clean your hands.”

“Darlin’? You want me to go with you?” Steve asked.

“It’s Valhalla and Odin is present. No one would be stupid enough to try it,” you said as you walked away.

The festivities of the hall had been interrupted, and already Sengali was making a stink, pouting and gaining sympathy for Eira’s rude treatment. It wasn’t any different than what you'd done in Asgard, but Eira had not declared for Bucky. It could have been handled better.

Restless mutterings were growing when Thor clapped his hands and called for the next round of entertainment. A new group hurried in, but the damage was already done. Not even the fire dancers with their twirling batons could halt the slow descent of the hall into grumblings. You needed to find Eira and figure this out quickly so you could regain control of Valhalla.

With your gifts, it wasn’t difficult to find her curled among the roots back in the shadows with her arms wrapped around her knees. “Eira?”

She flinched away. “Please… please don’t hate me.”

The shock had you falling down beside her instead of sitting. “Hate you? Why would I hate you? You’re sister-kin, and this is something to be celebrated.”

“But…” she sniffled as she lifted her head. “You told him to keep his knees together. You made it clear. I thought you wanted him to remain undistracted.”

“Oh, Eira!” You reached for her and hugged her tight. “No, I’m so sorry. I was teasing him. This, all of it, it’s so different from what they are used too. Our ways, Valhalla, the way Valkyries do things when it comes to men, even how open we are about sex, it’s all so new to them. I had to explain things before we came here. One of those things was an offered knee. It surprised Bucky, and I’ve been teasing him about it ever since.”

“Oh…” she whispered, her heart slowing from the fast beat of a hummingbird’s wings to that of a running rabbit.  “It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t want me.”

For the moment, you ignored that bit of foolishness. “Eira. Why didn’t you declare for him when you met in Asgard?”

She thrust the heel of her hand beneath her eye and smeared paint across her cheek. “I was just so… surprised. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Like all of me cried out and reached for him. But things moved so fast, and you made me your right hand, and then I was in a room with you and Thor and Loki… it was overwhelming. Then I was second guessing myself. What if I was wrong? It’s not like I could ask Gunborg.”

“And you thought I’d be upset,” you sighed. “And here I was worried you’d hurt each other if you found your sjelevenn with someone else after being with Bucky.”

“You were?” Her eyes were huge when she gaped at you.

“Eira, you’re family. Of course I’m going to worry about you. Bucky’s been family for a long time. I didn’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

She snuffled again. “Think it’s too late for that. He looked so angry.”

“Nah, that’s just a Barnes’ special. We call it ‘bitchy resting face,’ but he can pull it off when he’s surprised and doesn’t want to show it. Though I think he’s a little pissed you didn’t tell him sooner.”

“I tried before dinner tonight. We got interrupted.”

By you and Steve. “Crap. Sorry about that.”

“He won’t be happy about it anyway.” She brushed away more tears. “He thinks I’m young and foolish, and he’s right. I am. He deserves better than me.”

“And right there is where I call bullshit.”

“What?”

Pushing to your feet, you pulled her up with you and led her to the part of the tree where a slightly heavier stream of water ran. “Wash your face. You’ve smeared your paint. Might as well take it off.” She cupped her hands to collect the water. “The Norns know I’m no one to talk about relationships. Steve and me, we had a rocky start. Granted, it was caused by someone else meddling in the middle, but if I had just talked to Steve, it never would have gotten so far out of hand I ended up blind.”

She paused in her washing to peer at you curiously. “But you are here now, and your relationship is the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, now. Because we talk to each other. Fear can only live in the shadows. If you take it out and expose it to the light, it’s not so scary anymore. The same goes for truth, love, feelings. Eira, if you know Bucky is your sjelevenn, you can’t let fear stand in your way. You’re meant to be together, and thinking he doesn’t want you,” you breathed out a harsh breath, “that can hurt a lot. But a lot of the time, it’s all in your head. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not watching.”

“Really? How?”

“Ask him.” You turned to walk away but paused and looked back. “You do not have my permission to leave the hall until you’ve worked things out with your sjelevenn. That means talk, Eira. Figure it out. I won’t begrudge you your happiness and Norn granted soulmate because he’s my guard. I’m pretty sure you’re both responsible enough to keep your personal and professional lives separate.”

“Yes, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

“I’ll send him to you.” Striding away, you paused at the opening to the hall and frowned. It was getting loud and rowdy and not in a good way.

“Father would like to know what you are going to do about this, sister dear, seeing as how it was your Valkyries who started it.”

You rolled your eyes but looked up at Loki. “I need two things from you and one from Thor.”

“Always happy to help, sweet Sváfa. Are you going to do something naughty?” he grinned wickedly.

“Only a little tricky, Loki.” You winked at him. “Only a little tricky.”

***

Steve stared at Bucky, as did everyone else at the table. “Buck…”

“Don't start, punk.”

“But, Bucky, this is great!” Steve couldn't be happier for him.

“Yeah. Great,” he muttered. “So great she ran outta here like her tail was on fire.” Bucky used the damp rag to clean the blood from his hand.

“No wonder you beat the hell out of Ubbe,” Ivar chuckled.

“Ivar,” Ragnar huffed. “Shut up.” He turned his intense eyes to Bucky. “Eira is sweet but unsure of herself. She has struggled to fit in as a Valkyrie. To still be a maiden at her age?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“You're talking about stuff you don't have all the information for,” Bucky grumbled.

Steve kicked Bucky under the table. “You two have either been snarling at each other or flirting since we got here. Poor girl is probably so confused she doesn't know what you want. Especially after this afternoon and that whole show you put on with Magret.”

“Didn't mean nothing.” Bucky shrugged.

“I know that, but your girl likely took it hard.”

“She's not my girl.”

“Yet!” all the men around the table laughed. All except the one called Floki.

“You’re a strange fellow,” he murmured, peering closely at Bucky and ignoring the movement of the dancers around him. “Such darkness in you, but it is so… light. An evil once corrupt, now used only for good. It is… interesting. But a man who doesn’t want a Valkyrie as a mate? Now there is a true oddity.”

“I never said that.”

Steve watched Bucky play with his cup. “You like her, which is good. You’re supposed to like her.”

“Shut up!” he scoffed. “Doesn’t matter how I feel if she’s runnin’ like a scared rabbit.”

“Bucky.” Steve dropped his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “She’s your soulmate. You’re meant to be together!”

“Then why did she run?”

There was such a wealth of hurt and uncertainty in the depths of Bucky’s eyes Steve felt for him.

“Maybe you should ask her yourself, Sergeant,” Loki said as he walked by. “Y/N requests you join your Valkyrie beneath the roots.”

Bucky was up and gone before Steve could say anything. “And Y/N?” he called after Loki.

“She will return in a moment.”

“That was helpful,” Steve snorted into his cup.

“The God of Mischief is like that,” Floki snickered, his eyes following the woman throwing flaming batons into the air.

The others were all caught up in the dancer twirling and spinning between tables, except Ragnar who stood and moved around the end to sit again beside Steve.

“Now, tell me. What happens with Sváfa? She is here, but she has not been, and I am confused.”

“Look, Ragnar,” Steve sighed. “She trusts you, clearly, but I don’t know you.”

“Steven, son of Rogers, she is the queen I would follow into battle. The one I would lay down my undead life for. There is no other but Odin for whom I would make such a claim.”

“And your sons?” Steve nodded toward the others, catcalling loudly.

“She brought Ivar home and Floki. They would hold a shield wall for her. Bjorn was chosen by another, as were Hvitserk and Ubbe, but each has nothing but respect for her. She used to come to the fields and fight among the men, laughing and smiling, a kind word for all. Her presence has been missed.”

Steve could find nothing false in his words. No hint of deception. Y/N wouldn’t trust him without reason. “She was born on Midgard.”

“A quiet life. She seems to have had many.”

“Only because someone here has made sure of it. They locked her soul out of Asgard. We don’t know why yet.”

Ragnar’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in anger as he leaned forward. “What? Who?”

“Don’t know that either. She ended up with us, my team, on Earth and we fell in love, but there was a guy, Garry. His purpose was to fuck things up between us. Unfortunately,” Steve sighed, “he succeeded. Y/N ran away. He convinced her I’d been unfaithful, then kidnapped her. Our enemies are called Hydra. Specifically the Hounds of Hydra. They’re evil. I’ve fought their kind before. The experimented on her.” When Ragnar frowned, Steve murmured, “Like magic. They did spells on her. Painful ones, trying to break her back to her first life. Make her Sváfa again. They tried to erase who she was to use her connection to the Valkyrjur. They failed, but not before damaging her sight.”

“She is blind?” Ragnar asked, nodding slowly. “I wondered. Her eyes are beautiful but haunting. So different from the past.”

“Partially, yeah. She had a teacher, a friend of ours who taught her to fight without them. If you didn’t know she was blind, you never would. Her abilities are incredible.”

“Says the man who is her husband.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, well, doesn't mean I'm wrong. After she killed the ljå, we knew we’d have to come here. Our souls are out of sync, and according to Freyja, Y/N should have been reborn as Queen over and over. She’s the one Freyja wanted ruling here. She’s meant to sit on the throne.”

Another slow nod came from Ragnar. “Yes. Yes, I can see that. The… feel of Valhalla has been changing.”

“How do you mean?”

“What was once a joy, has become… a burden. Valhalla is full of men who seem confused to be here. Some, far from fitting to be Einherjar.” He brought his fist down on the table. “It makes no sense!”

“I know. She knows. We’re figuring it out.”

“Tell me what I can do to assist?”

Steve frowned as he looked around, the noise was growing into rowdy bouts of shoving and anger. “We need to know more of the Einherjar. Of the people. Y/N is going to visit tomorrow with Bucky while I’m off doing… that.” He motioned toward Odin with his head.

“It’s an honour to ride with Odin. Just… stay on your horse,” Ragnar chuckled.

“Roger that,” Steve snickered.

A crack of thunder deafened all of them, causing the room to fall into silence, and all to look toward Thor covered in lightning. “Friends! Something special for your enjoyment. The lovely Sváfa.”

Steve’s heart jumped. If she was gonna dance, he might have to kill a few people, but when she walked out of the shadows beneath the tree, she was packing a… guitar?

“Let the songbird sing!” bellowed Ragnar.

***

You chuckled at Ragnar’s yell and lightly strummed the strings of the guitar. No, you hadn’t known how to play or sing or dance in this life, but in others, you'd accomplished all three, and as a Valkyrie, singing had been your forte. Even in this life, you’d loved to sing. Music was an essential part of your world; had been since the very beginning.

Loki had done as you’d requested, creating a guitar, a non-traditional instrument for Valhalla but one you could play and sing with unaccompanied. He’d then retrieved Bucky, who’d glanced at you curiously before stomping into the shadows. And finally, you’d asked him to ask Thor to get everyone’s attention.

In the interim, you’d been watching the hall and Gunborg’s group in particular. She held court. There was no other way to describe what was taking place in her section of the room.

Men of the Einherjar came and paid their respects, fawned and flirted - to her sjelevenn’s displeasure. The Valkyrie who supported her laughed and drank with the men, each one using their bodies as weapons to seduce and entice.

It sickened you, but it was clear where the darkness in the heart of the Valkyrjur was coming from. But why? How? For what purpose? No Valkyrie had ever been unhappy with their existence before. Not as far as you knew anyway. What had happened to Gunborg to turn her mind like this?

Now wasn’t the time to contemplate Gunborg’s life choices. Not when every eye in Valhalla was upon you. The Einherjar needed a distraction, so you’d give them one.

It had been a while, but the feel of the strings and stretch of your fingers around the neck of the guitar, pressing down and sliding over the fretboard came back quickly as you stepped up on a bench and out onto the tabletop to make your way down the center of the hall. “I can hear your voice, across the night. Calling me by name, giving me a sign. There's never been a sound that could bring me to my feet, shake my bones, awaken me.”

You smiled left and right, nodding here and there when you came across faces you recognized, or ones you didn’t but who stared up at you in awe. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you. Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

It almost made you laugh when at each crossing, two or three would bend and brace their hands on their knees, offering you their back as a bridge for your bare feet rather than make you jump. “I can almost see it all. The fog has cleared. The echo of your voice, in my ears. I could leave you footprints in the snow.” You smiled when snowflakes began drifting down around you and shot a wink at Loki. “Or a blazing fire, to lead you home.”

Dead center of the hall, you slowed to a stop where all good see you. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you. Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

You lifted your hand from the strings to keep time against the body. Loki’s snow which had swirled and curled around you, dancing through your hair and around your feet, became a quiet downfall. “La dum, la dum. La dum, la dum. I'll come running, give me a sign. La dum, la dum. La dum, la dum. Just come home dear, not far behind.”

You felt him long before he moved, but when Steve stood slowly from the table not far to your right, you turned toward him and laid your hand against the guitar to sing out into the silence.

“I can feel it in the air, you're almost here,” he harmonized with you, his voice so pure, ringing through the hall like magic. “Pulling me forward, drawing near.”

You laughed, and the snow swirled when you strummed your fingers over the strings. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you.” Steve’s pace matched the beat, bringing him closer with each swaggering stride. “Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

He came to a stop at the end of the table where he held out his hand. You slung the guitar around to your back, took his hand and stepped to the ground. There you stood, hand in his with the other resting on his chest. His free one wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer.

“I can hear your voice, across the night. Calling me by name, giving me a sign.”

Steve smiled, ducked his head, and kissed you hard, sending the Einherjar into a frenzy of approval.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fluff, much fluff, soft Bucky  
> Song: Love So Soft by Kelly Clarkson

## Chapter Seventeen

* * *

Bucky eyed Y/N and her guitar as he stalked by. He didn't know what that was about and didn't let it concern him. He only had one thing on his mind.

Eira.

His heart pounded in his chest, galloping like the flying hooves of a pegasus.

Sjelevenn. She'd called him her sjelevenn. These last months of watching Steve and Y/N together, of being a bystander to the intensity and depth of their love was amazing. They were like two parts of a whole. So in tune with each other, it was incredible. If being a sjelevenn was like that… it both thrilled and terrified him.

What if he couldn't be what she needed? Did she really want to be tied to someone like him? Someone with all the baggage and issues he had? The trauma he was still working through?

Searching for her through the roots of the tree, he finally found her standing back in the shadows near a silver stream of water looking lost and so alone what concerns he had regarding the future disappeared. All he wanted was to pull her close and soothe her troubles away.

“Eira?”

She shot him a glance from beneath her lowered lashes, crossed her arms and hugged them close to her body. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

If she’d shot him, he would have been less surprised. “I know I’m not Asgardian, but I didn’t think that would bother you.”

Her brows drew together. “Asgardian? No, why would it?”

“Then it’s me.” He nodded, resigned to the fact. “Hey, I get it. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either,” Bucky sighed. In the background, Y/N started to sing, but not even the shock of her sudden ability could lift the shroud of gloom which seemed to descend over him.

“What?” Eira whispered.  

He looked up to find her staring at him, hazel eyes enormous and round, greener than brown in the low lighting. “I get it. You’re young and have a whole life ahead of you. I’m just some old man you’re stuck with.”

“You’re not old,” she frowned. “You’re a strong warrior. Powerful. I can sense it in you. You’ve seen battles,” she shook her head in apparent amazement, “I cannot even begin to guess at.” She turned slightly away and reached out to wrap her fingers around one of the many roots. “I… admire you. I couldn’t imagine a man like you would want to be stuck with an immature female of my calibre. Unblooded. Unseasoned. Untired.” A blush burst into her cheeks. “I’ve never even had a lover.”

Bucky moved silently closer. “I don’t care about that. I do care what you think. Did you think this would upset me; finding out I’m your sjelevenn? That I’d be… disappointed?” How could she ever think that?

She gave a short nod, her chin still tucked low, and eyes downcast. “I’m nothing but a foolish girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. What warrior wants an immature child as a sjelevenn when there are others like Sengali or Magret better suited to them?”

Anger tore through him. “You get one chance to take those words back, Eira. No one talks about you that way, especially you.” Shock filled her face when her head snapped up. “I’ve been fightin’ to keep my hands to myself since the moment you looked at me on the steps of Asgard. Don’t you dare say that shit about yourself.” He stalked forward causing her to take an uncertain step in retreat, leaving her trapped against the tangled web of roots.

“S-sergeant?” she squeaked.

“It’s Bucky,” he growled, striding into her space until there was barely an inch between them. He grabbed and gripped the roots to either side of her, trapping her between his arms. “Why didn’t you say something as soon as we met? Y/N said you should have declared for me right then. Why didn’t you?”

Her heart pounded in her chest, easily heard by his ears, and fluttered wildly in the pulse in her throat. The paint she’d worn earlier was gone, making her no less sexy or tempting, just a little more wholesome than seductive, though he figured she could seduce him by breathing if she wanted to.

“There… there hasn’t been a new sjelevenn claimed in a thousand years. No one really knows what to expect or how it feels. Then I saw you and…”

“And?” Bucky asked, studying her face, her eyes, her mouth. He wanted to get his hands on her but held back a little longer.

“And my heart jumped. My soul leapt. I felt like my body yearned to be near you.” Even now she swayed toward him, reducing the space to nearly nothing. “But I didn’t know if that was… normal. I thought… I thought my mind was playing tricks.”

“You could have asked Y/N,” he murmured, his gaze locked with her lips.

“She kept telling you to keep your knees together,” Eira whispered.

“A joke. God, it was just a joke.” He shifted closer, pressing her back into the tangled roots.

“I know that _now_ ,” she whimpered and licked her lips.

“Is this what you were tryin’ to tell me earlier? In my room.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and the air washed over his lips. “I thought you’d be upset to be stuck with me.”

“Shit,” Bucky chuckled and gently dropped his forehead to hers. “Ain’t we a pair of fools, dollface?”

“You… don’t mind?”

“Eira,” he sighed and released the tree to wind his arms around her waist. “I’d give just about anything to share a love like Steve and Y/N’s. If that’s what being sjelevenn entails with you, I’m in.” Before she could say any more, Bucky kissed her, soft and slow and could have sung at the taste of her.

She was like coffee and whiskey. Meant to perk him up and warm him from the inside out. She smelled like sin, and she tasted like life before the war. Before Hydra. Bucky melted into the kiss and found a peace he’d been missing in his life for a really long time. The gentle touch of her hands on his chest made him hum in satisfaction. When they slipped up around his neck, he made a quiet sound of enjoyment.

He nipped his teeth into her lip. When she gave a small gasp of pleasure, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, finding the taste of mead only heightened his excitement. Bucky would be the first to admit he’d kissed plenty of dames, some given willingly, some stolen on a whim, but none compared to kissing the sweet, innocent lips of Eira.

She was addictive, attentive, and the woman learned fast, for suddenly it was Bucky backed into the curved roots of the tree as the kiss turned hungry. Something smacked him in the back of the knees, and he sat with a thump on a bench of twisted roots while Eira crawled into his lap. Her split skirt allowed her to straddle his thigh, and Bucky damn near growled when the heat of her core landed on his leather-clad leg.

Soft and warm, her hands found their way inside his shirt. She gently dug her nails in, scratching lightly. It made his cock ache to be buried in the heat scorching his thigh. Never in his life had he wanted a woman with such flaming desire so quickly as he did the one leaving burning trails of lust over his chest with nothing but her touch.

Then, her fingers found the start of his scars and both of them froze.

She pulled away enough to breathe and see his face in the shadows. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, uh… there’s somethin’ I should probably tell you.” He flexed his fingers on her thighs, shifting her back enough to create space between them, and reached for his left glove. “Most people just assume I’ve got scars or somethin’ when they see I don’t take this off, but…” He took a deep breath and pulled it off to reveal his metal hand.

Eira gave a tiny, wonder-filled gasp and lightly stroked his fingers. “It is metal!”

“Yeah. The whole arm is,” Bucky said, amused by her when she manipulated each of his fingers.

“Really?” Her hand shot through the open collars of his shirt and pushed it back before he could stop her, revealing not only his metal shoulder and bicep but all the scars that went along with it. “Oh… such a terrible wound.” Soft hands moved over the scars, lightly stroking, almost as if she were trying to soothe the damage in the present that had occurred in the past. “You must have fought a horrific battle.”

“I did. Before you were born,” he murmured. His heart ached in both joy and disbelief. She was more than he’d realized. There was a compassion in her he’d mistaken as weakness when they’d first met.

She gave a quiet snort. “You are not that old. You are perhaps… thirty. Thirty-five?”

“Dollface… I…” How did one go about explaining he was a hundred years old? “Oh, boy. Has Thor ever talked about Steve? How he was frozen in the ice for seventy years and survived?”

“He mentioned him being a man lost to time but never elaborated.”

Bucky looked into her hazel eyes and cupped her chin with his metal hand. “Eira. Steve and me, we were born at the beginning of Earth’s nineteen hundreds. Before the start of the second world war.”

“What?” she whispered.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. “But Steve was experimented on by our government. The punk was a puny kid when we were younger. They turned him into what you see today. Him and me, we fought Nazi’s and Hydra together. Hydra was who hurt Y/N.”

“I remember,” she nodded.

“Well, I was captured a long time ago, and some of what was done to Steve was done to me. They gave me a serum that made me bigger, stronger, faster. But it didn’t work like Steve’s. It took time. Steve found me before they got done and got us both out of there, but a while later we were on a mission and I… fell. Everyone thought I’d died that day, but Hydra found me again. They erased my memory, finished what they started, and froze my body, thawing me out only when someone needed killing. I was their weapon, an assassin, for seventy years until Steve found me and helped me remember who I was. I’ve got…” he struggled for a minute, trying to get the words he wanted to say out without stumbling over them, “issues. I still have nightmares about that time. Sometimes I get lost in them, and I’ve hurt Steve when he’s tried to wake me up. I'm not… completely stable, and I'll understand if you want to take a step back.” He waited for rejection, disgust, shock, anything really to come to her eyes, but all he found was compassion.

“Do you think any great warrior comes without battle scars? Without wounds both mental and physical?” She brought her hands to his face, gently scratched them through his beard, and drew him close for a sweet kiss, nothing more than a tender brush of lips. “You are not broken, Bucky Barnes. You're battle hardened. And if what Y/N says is true…” One hand went to his heart. “Then my sight isn't faulty, and you have a strangely beautiful soul…” He watched her roll the word off her tongue as if tasting its reality for the first time before murmuring, “Sjelevenn.”

Something inside him clicked, a key fitting perfectly in a lock, and Bucky dragged her down for a fast, hard, brutal kiss. When she moaned at the contact, it was nearly a purr of pleasure.

Bucky's hands found her bare thighs, and she gasped softly in surprise. “Legs are for seducing one's lover, right?” he teased, dragging her forward on his so she rode it in a sinful caress.

“James,” she whimpered, freezing him in his tracks. Her eyes grew round again. “Is that… not okay?”

“It's my first name. Bucky is for Buchanan, my middle one.”

“James Buchanan  Barnes. You have so many. I am only Eira.”

“Eira, daughter of…?” he coaxed.

“Once I was the daughter of Calax, princess of my people, but that changed the moment I devoted myself to the Valkyrjur.”

“Mm, Y/N explained.”

“Did she explain how a sjelevenn bond works?” Eira asked shyly.

“They're like soulmates, right?”

She nodded. “Two halves of the same soul bound together in every life. Whether that be here or on Midgard, only the Norns know.”

“And…” he swallowed thickly, “the rest?”

“Rest?” she frowned.

Bucky sighed and rested his cheek against her hand still lightly stroking his face. “I don't know what happens next. Steve and Y/N were already together when all this came to light. Where do we go from here, dollface?”

Her eyes darkened into a green so deep he'd only ever seen it's like on pine trees in the forest. “I am yours, Bucky Barnes. From this life into the next until the Norns deem our time in this realm complete. I would see your throat bear my mark, a visual testament to my devotion, as my heart already bears yours.”

A smile flirted with the corner of his mouth. “Your heart, huh?”

“Yes.” She turned her face away. “It is very much invested.”

“Eira.” He buried his flesh hand in her hair and ran vibranium fingers up her spine, making her shiver and gasp. “I'm sorry about Magret.”

She shrugged, but wouldn't look at him. “How were you to know?”

“I'm still sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I have no excuse except I look at you so young and gorgeous and talented. You don't deserve to be saddled with me. A washed up old super soldier with a cagey past.”

Her fingers landed on his lips. “I don't care about your past. I care about now and the future. I care about what… what you think of me, and if you want me, James Buchanan Barnes.  Because you're mine. I've found you, and every life after this one I will look for you.”

Earnest and heartfelt, her honesty made his heart ache. The idea of denying her when every part of him shouted for him to get closer and never let go, was unfathomable. All he wanted was to keep her right where she was. Forever. “Yeah, baby girl. I want you.”

She smiled, and it was everything he could have hoped for. Then her mouth was on his, her hands in his hair as she did everything in her power to mould the two of them together.

Bucky tore his mouth away, panting for breath and aching. “Eira, darlin’ wait.”

“Don’t wanna wait,” she moaned and pulled his hair, forcing his chin up so she could attach her lips to his throat.

He groaned when the sensation she invoked made everything below his belt pulse and ripple with pleasure. His cock was so hard, and balls so tight, he was sure he’d tear right through his pants. “Eira… slow down.”

She pulled away. “I thought… you wanted me?”

With kiss-swollen lips and pine green eyes, her cheeks flushed and pink, Bucky could only stare stunned by how beautiful she was. But youth and innocence betrayed her with her uncertainty. “I do, baby girl. I really do,” he murmured, shifting uncomfortably. “I just don’t wanna jump the gun here. We’ve known each other for a handful of days. You don’t have to do this if you want to take some time to get to know one another first. And,” he continued when she made to speak, “I’m not gonna have your first time be beneath the roots of a tree, yards from where anyone could see you or hear you scream, but in a bed where the soft sheets are a compliment to your skin.” He smirked as he lightly drew his fingers up her bare back, contrasting heat and cold in a way which made her shiver.

“You’re so sure I’ll scream?”

“Yeah, baby. You’re gonna scream. I guarantee it.” Bucky grinned cheekily, continuing to ignore the loud cheering coming from the hall, muffled by the sound of running water and the thick tangle of roots.

“Bucky?” She framed his face with her hands. “I know I’m not… experienced, but I don’t want to wait. I want to be with you. Perhaps I am forward compared to your Earthly women, but I can’t help it. You’re my sjelevenn. We have our whole lives to learn everything there is to know about each other.”

“What are you saying, Eira?”

She pushed from his lap to her feet and held out her hand. “My queen decreed I couldn’t leave the hall without first fixing the mistakes I made with my sjelevenn. I think I’ve done that. I can now leave Valhalla. Would you like to join me in your soft bed, Sergeant?”

Slowly, Bucky pushed to his feet, his eyes locked with hers as he took her offered hand. The instant their fingers touched he felt it. The deep connection. The love. It unfurled inside him in a way he’d never felt before. It felt like truth. Trust. Understanding. It felt like forever. It felt like home. She was his _home_ , his resting place. Suddenly, he understood so much better how the connection with Y/N and Steve had formed so quickly.  The depth of a sjelevenn bond when it began building was breathtaking.

“Do you feel it?” Eira asked softly.

She peered up at him with her beautiful eyes, and Bucky was moved to draw her closer and curl his body around her. He tucked his face into her throat and breathed in the scent of her. The smell of life. “Yes,” he sighed, running his lips over her skin.

“Destiny unfolds in the stars and fills the void between our souls with threads of the first binding,” she whispered. “Let me show you, sjelevenn. Come with me.”

“Eira,” he sighed, drunk on the taste of her. High on her scent. “What… what happens after that?”

“Where you go, I go. If that’s back to Midgard, so be it. We’ll figure it out.”

She stepped back, and he followed, refusing to let her go. “Together?”

“Together. You’re mine, Bucky.”

The way she kept claiming him shouldn't have sounded so good to his ears, but it did. It exhilarated him. It made him feel alive and whole. For the first time in a long time, he had someone who wanted him. Not for the Winter Soldier, but for the man he was. The man whose soul matched hers.

Unable to stand it any longer, he bent and tossed her over his shoulder before storming for the doors.

“Bucky!” she squealed and laughed, holding her shirt down with one hand.

“What?” he grinned. “Didn’t all Vikings tend to make off with their women?”

She softened, even as she used her hand to brace against his back. “Am I your woman?”

He shifted her with a quick toss to his arms and snuck out the gap between the doors which led into the hall. “Yeah, baby girl. You’re mine.”

Her arms went around his neck and lips pressed to his cheek. “Thank you,” she breathed, a whisper and a prayer he wasn’t sure was aimed at him.

He’d never held much stock in the Norns Y/N talked about, but now, Bucky tilted his head back as he passed the two blazing bowls beneath the watchful eyes of the enormous wolves to peer up at the sky of stars with no discernable constellations and added his own silent thank you. He didn’t know why they’d chosen him when in truth he felt unworthy, but he was grateful all the same.

“You think Y/N and Steve will be alright?” she asked, her fingers stroking his jaw.

Bucky chuckled. “With Thor, Odin, and Loki around? They’ll be just fine.” Besides, nobody knew what Steve was capable of. Coming at Y/N would see them leaning a lesson they wouldn't soon forget.

***

You smirked toward the far end of the hall when Bucky and Eira snuck out the doors.

“What amuses you, Sváfa dear?” Floki asked.

As the hall had settled with your impromptu duet, you and Steve had returned to your table, allowing the regular entertainment to resume.

“A new sjelevenn bond is in the making,” you chuckled into your cup.

“Yeah?” Steve snickered. “They figured it out?”

“Mm,” you hummed. “And snuck like thieves from the hall. I can only imagine what trouble they'll get up to,” you quipped.

“If it's anything like the trouble we got _up_ to earlier, I doubt we'll see them again before morning,” Steve chuckled.

“You’re taking this in stride, I see,” you smiled.

“He’s mopey. Maybe having a young, pretty sjelevenn on his arm will perk him up a little.”

You looked at Steve and found something in his eyes you hadn’t seen in a while, not when it came to you at least. Worry darken the sparkling blue. Worry for Bucky. “Steve?”

“He’s been… darker lately, not that most people would notice. There's a melancholy that comes over him from time to time when what was done to him, and what he did because of it, rises up to haunt him.”

“Since the caves?” you asked.

“Yeah, but even that business with Garry put him in a foul mood. The whole mess dug up a lot of feelings about HYDRA, the Hounds, the war… all of it.” Steve sighed softly. The arm he had wrapped around your waist tightened, then he pressed his lips to your temple. “But it’s okay. If Eira’s anything for him like you are for me, Bucky’s gonna be just fine.”

“Sweet talker,” you chuckled.

“If anyone deserves a sjelevenn, it’s Bucky,” he murmured against your ear. “This kind of love is special. He needs it, and I think Eira will be good for him. She’ll keep him out of his head.”

“She’s also strong enough to handle the soldier if she needs to.”

“You think?” He looked at you questioningly.

You pressed a tender kiss to his lips and whispered for his ears alone, “If I can catch his arm, so can she.”

“Well, I wish them a happy life,” he said as he nuzzled his nose beneath your ear.

“My queen?”

Ama appeared with Magret, Benatta, and Jesslyn at the end of the table and you smiled for her even as Steve dragged his lips over your pulse point. “Yes, Ama?”

“We were wondering if you’d like more company, seeing as how Eira and her sjelevenn will likely not be returning.”

A smirk twitched her lips and made you laugh. “As long as our esteemed companions don’t object.” You smirked at Ragnar and his sons.

“And pass up the company of four such fine Valkyrie? Sváfa my love, have you gone mad?” Ivar reached out toward Benatta who settled in his lap with a giggle.

The women all took a seat along the bench, equally spaced to allow attention to all of them, while you turned yours to Steve. There was a flush to his cheeks and sparkle in his eyes, the mead he’d been drinking finally beginning to affect him.

You leaned toward his ear and whispered, “You going to drunk giggle for me, Stevie?”

“Not just yet,” he chuckled. “Maybe in three or four more cups.”

Two tankards slammed down on the table beside Steve while a cup was set with more finesse down beside yours as Thor and Loki joined the festivities.

“Let me assist with the drunken revelries, my friend.” Thor shoved one of the tankards at Steve with a grin.

“And while they get falling down drunk, I will be here to keep you company, lillesøster,” Loki said, his grin wicked and smug.

You laughed, happy and a little drunk. At home and at peace for the first time in days.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: smutty Bucky feels, language, NSFW  
> Song: Make You Feel My Love by Adele

## Chapter Eighteen

* * *

The door shut with a gentle click and Bucky pulled the steel bar down across it, effectively locking them inside. There had been a few curious looks when they'd made their way into the keep, but the Valkyries on duty mostly smirked knowingly, and Eira had blushingly explained many a Valkyrie would be accepting invitations to others beds tonight. The ones on duty just assumed she was warming Bucky's early.

When he turned away from the door, it was to find her standing before the fireplace, an immense stone one she was adding wood too. Red coals leapt into life, the glow flickering into a flame which quickly ate its way into the logs.

“Eira,” he murmured, admiring the way the light played over her skin.

“Sjelevenn?” she smiled over her shoulder at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing as how I intended to spend the night naked in your bed, I thought to keep the chill off the room.”

“Baby girl, super soldiers run hot. You're not gonna be cold tonight.” He stalked her slowly across the room. “Or any night in the future.”

She shivered, but not out of fear. A smirk stretched her lips as she reached up and released the comb holding her hair and braids in place. The wealth of it fell onto her shoulders and down her back, sending feathers rustling and gleaming in the firelight.

The image of her would forever be seared into his brain. The desire to leap, take, claim, and devour her was intense, writhing in his gut like an unscratchable itch. _Gentle_ , Bucky reminded himself. _Go softly_. It didn't matter how sexy and enticing or confident she appeared, he was her first, her last, her only lover and he would go slowly. He would treat her with care. He would….

The thoughts flew right out of his head when her hand dropped to the back of her neck, and then her shirt was sliding to the floor. Only her ropes of beads and coins, shells and links of metal remained. Heavy necklaces that revealed more than they hid lay against her flesh.

She looked the part of barbarian princess tonight, standing before him in not but a skirt and jewelry.

He swallowed thickly. “Eira.”

“You made it pretty clear Midgardian men consider a woman's breast quite sexual,” she purred as she moved toward him and walked him backward until he sat heavily on the foot of his bed. “Though I still think legs are for seducing one's lover.”

She hiked her skirt up as she said it and slid into his lap revealing long limbs of smooth skin. “Oh, my God,” Bucky groaned unable to concentrate.

“You'll have to be more specific when you pray to the Gods,” she whispered, her lips brushing his as she worked the knot free on his belt. “We have many.”

“Which one do I thank for making sweet and sexy Valkyries like you?” Bucky asked, gently massaging her thighs.

She pulled his belt away from his waist and let it fall to the floor. “Freya created the Valkyries, but the Norns joined our threads and bound our souls together.”

“Threads?” he murmured, gliding his hands up to her waist where he could rub his thumbs over her exquisitely soft skin.

“The Norns spin the threads of life and fate. They tied ours together for a reason. What that is?” She smiled and shook her head sending feathers dancing around her face and shoulders. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out together.”

“You’re kinda perfect,” Bucky smirked. “You know that?” He skimmed his fingers up her ribs and lightly caressed the underside of her breasts. Her areolas and nipples were pale pink, pebbling swiftly with his touch when he traced his fingertips over them.

Her lashes fluttered; pleasure on her face with her open mouth and soft moan. “James.”

Bucky placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “You sound so pretty, baby girl.” He cupped her breast and made her whimper. Plucked her nipple into a hard peak and listened to her whine. Took it in his mouth and chuckled when she gasped. “Can you see the allure of breasts now?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

He raked his teeth over the hard peak and sucked firmly. A sound like a kitten purring, had him lifting his head. “That's a cute noise.”

A flush gathered on her cheeks. “I didn't know I could make it.” Her hands clenched into fists and tangled with the ties on his shirt. “I think you should take this off.” She tugged on it, shaking her fingers free to gather the hem and start drawing it up his body.

“Eira…” He stopped her hands on his chest. “It's… it's not pretty, what they did to me. I've had some work done to it, but… it's not great.”

When Shuri had removed the trigger words from his head, she'd cleaned up his arm the best she could, but there was only so much she could do about the old scar tissue.

Eira released his shirt to take his face between her palms. “James, your scars don’t bother me. They will never bother me. They are part of you, part of the life you’ve lived, part of your story. Give me time, and I will know every one as if they were mine. I would worship each with my lips. Kiss every scar. Your body may carry the damage of a lifetime, but you are a warrior. Battle-hardened and scarred. Tried and tested. Forged in defeat and victory. Nothing about you will ever, ever make me love you less. Nothing you show me could make me want you less.”

Her lips were so soft when she pressed them to his, like a brush of sweet breeze over his flesh. The silky glide of her tongue had him parting his lips on a moan, and she delved inside, bringing the taste of mead and the essence of Eira into his mouth. Her hands were slow and gentle in her caresses when they skimmed down his neck, over his chest, and began to collect the hem of his shirt again.

This time, he let her draw it up and raised his arms so she could pull it over his head and drop it to the floor. Her gaze shifted from his face to his chest, her hands returned to his flesh and walked softly over his skin, following the planes and angles of his muscles until she reached the ripples of scarring around his shoulder. “I think this is both tragic,” she murmured as she ducked her head, “and beautiful,” she whispered beginning to lay kisses on his skin.

“How is that beautiful?” he asked, finding her gentle touch more arousing than any he’d experienced before.

Eira ran her hand down his left arm to his wrist and brought it to her back, a clear sign she wanted him touching her as she was touching him. “Such a wound is not easily survived. That you did, that you could, it tells me more about your will and your strength of character than any words ever could. To me, your battle wounds will always be beautiful, no matter how you came to receive them.”

He slipped his hand up her spine and splayed it over her back, holding her close as he buried his flesh hand in her hair and took hold of her braids. “Baby girl.”

Her hands flexed on his shoulders and nails gently dug in. Then her hands were in his hair, and she was pulling his head back to bare his throat a fire of determination in her suddenly hard face. “But I will be most disappointed if you take any new ones. You’re mine. My sjelevenn. It is my honour, my duty, my privilege to protect the other half of my soul. When you go into battle, I will be there, the shield to watch your back.”

Again her gaze drifted from his face down his body. Her nails skated the cords in his neck in an action that caused his cock to jerk. “I long to see my mark here,” she whispered. “Shining blue against your skin. Proclaiming you mine for all to see.”

“Fuck me…” Bucky groaned.

When Steve had come back with the tattoo on his throat, Bucky had thought it odd. Such things had never appealed to either of them, not with how they’d been raised, but Steve had sounded ecstatic about it. Proud even. He’d rub his hand over it absentmindedly, similar to how he played with his wedding ring. It hadn’t made much sense to Bucky... until now.

The soul-deep ache, the desire to be hers and only hers welled like a fountain inside him. “And how do you go about placing this mark?” he asked her.

She rubbed her lips over his jaw and nipped her teeth into his pulse. “Valkyrie magic. When you’re buried deep in my body, as the pleasure peaks, I can bind us together.”

“Eira,” he groaned. In a move born of desperation, he flipped their positions and pressed her down into the furs. It shouldn’t entice him. He shouldn’t want it. They barely knew each other. But he did. He wanted all of it. Everything.

He wanted nights with her spent in a haze of sweat and grasping hands. He wanted days together teaching her all he knew and learning everything he could about the woman laid out panting beneath him. The idea he would never be alone again, that he could have this soul-searing love in every life, it amazed him.

He wanted it all.

“Eira,” he purred, shifting enough so he could run his hands over her ribs. “I want that with you, I do, but not this first time. This first time is about you, baby girl.”

She sighed when he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and arched into his touch. “But-”

Bucky kissed her, long and deep, cutting off her protest. When he raised his head, her eyes were glassy and beautiful, full of want. “You’ve never had a lover, doll face. I plan on showing you what you’ve been missing. Next round, you can lead.”

“Next… next round?” she moaned when he continued to massage her breast, running his thumb over her nipple.

“Super soldiers have some pretty impressive recuperative powers as well as stamina,” he chuckled and worked his mouth over her throat.

“Oh, Goddess!” she cried out when he sucked on her pulse point.

He gave the tangle of necklaces around her throat a tug. “How do I get these off?”

Her hands fumbled until she gathered them together, pulled them en masse over her head, and threw them on the floor. Bucky chuckled at her enthusiasm and rewarded her with sucking kisses he peppered down her throat, over her chest, and across her breasts. Soft whimpers and little giggles escaped her while her hands threaded through his hair. He licked and plucked her nipples, pressed her breasts together and switched back and forth between them.

“That feels so good, James,” she moaned, her hands tugging his hair.

“It only gets better,” he grinned up at her before going back to worshiping her pretty breasts. “You’re so beautiful, baby girl.”

“Is that…” her breath caught, “a common term… on Midgard?”

Bucky paused in the continued exploration of her skin. “Baby girl?”

“And doll face,” she asked, lightly stroking his cheek.

“More common in the time I grew up. They are terms of endearment. Steve uses them too for Y/N. If you don’t like ‘em, I can pick somethin’ else, but it might take me a while to quit.”

“No, no.” She shook her head and stroked his shoulders. “They make me feel… special. I like them.”

He smirked and went back to placing kisses on her abdomen. “There’s also sweetheart. Darlin’. Honey.” Bucky kissed his way down to her belly button and dipped his tongue into it. “Sugar. Kitten.” She shivered, arched, and purred. “I think maybe kitten fits best when you’re making noises like that,” he chuckled.

“My body feels warm, and everything tingles. I feel so good, James,” she moaned her legs moving restlessly.

“It gets better,” he promised dipping his fingers in the waistband of her skirt as he sat back on his knees. “Lift your hips, kitten.”

She wriggled but did as he asked. Her hands rested to either side of her head. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and sparkling. Her wild hair of braids and feather spread out around her. She looked a warrior princess, but purred like a kitten, comfortable and relaxed, and not shy with him at all.

Bucky tugged the skirt down her slim hips and off her legs. Then, he sat back and looked his fill. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Long limbs of smooth muscles, an abdomen of defined dips and hollows, high firm breasts, and a smile on her lips. She laid there like a siren, seductive and sweet at the same time, unconcerned with her nudity as she wriggled deeper into the furs and higher on the bed.

“You’re staring, sjelevenn.” She dragged her fingertips down the valley between her breasts over her belly and let them rest at the apex of her thighs. A swatch of silk or satin covered her core, tied to her hips with ribbons and dangling beads.

His heart jumped with her purr of sjelevenn, and he closed his hands around her ankles. “I have to stare. You’re like art, Eira. Something to be admired and studied carefully. Appreciated from every angle,” Bucky smirked.

With a jerk, he flipped her swiftly to her belly and set his hands on her thighs when she gasped and startled.

“Bucky?” Worry laced her voice.

“I did say every angle,” he grinned and skimmed his hands up to squeeze her cloth covered bottom. She giggled, then moaned when he slipped his thumbs beneath the fabric. “Look at you, kitten. Look how sexy you are. You’re damn beautiful.” He gripped her waist and bent down to press kisses up her spine.

She was soft and warm and smelled divine. She moaned and shivered, arching and straining beneath him when he took his hands over her. Bucky crawled up her body to collect her hair and gather it out of the way. Then he buried his face in her throat, worried his teeth over her ear, and sucked on her nape, scraping his teeth over the small bones when she gave a startled moan of delight.

His cock ached he was so hard when he teasingly rubbed himself against her ass. She lifted into him, eager and more than willing, and Bucky couldn’t contain his excitement.

“I think you should take your pants off, sjelevenn,” she murmured, grinning at him over her shoulder.

Bucky chuckled and pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Or I could let you take them off.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart skipping. “I want to.”

“God, Eira,” he groaned, resting his forehead against her. “How are you so perfect?” He’d expected her to be shy, to be hesitant. Instead, she was a tamed tigress waiting for him in his bed.

When he climbed off her to stand at the side of the bed, he had to fight not to whine when she sat up and rolled over, confident in her nudity as she crawled toward him and shifted to sit on the edge. “I’m yours. I will always be yours,” she murmured, stroking her fingers up his thighs. “You’re so beautiful, sjelevenn.”

He lightly cupped her chin. “I think you mean handsome.”

“I meant what I said. You’re beautiful. I’ve never seen a man so wonderfully made before.” She pushed against him as she stood and took her hands over his chest. “Such strength.” She walked around him, to skim her nails down his back. “You’re like a figure carved of marble, so perfect in your form. I must admit,” she purred as her fingers found their way down his spine, “I quite admired your ass when you walked away from me in the city. So round and firm. I wanted to bite it,” she growled, giving it a hearty squeeze with both hands.

“Eira,” he groaned. She was killing him.

“And then you had these thighs like great tree trunks surrounding me when we rode together.” Her palms brushed over his hips. “The women talk about such thighs,” she purred, her hands skimming around and up over his abdomen as she pressed her body into his back.

The heat of her skin against his made Bucky hiss. “And what do they say?”

Her lips brushed the flesh of his shoulder, and he could feel her smile spread. “That a lucky woman can take quite a ride on such thighs, and a skilled man can make her scream. Are you a skilled man, James Barnes?”

What he was, was a quivering mess. How the hell had she turned the tables on him? “If I admit to being experienced, will it upset you?”

She swept her tongue over his back and her hands up to lightly stroke his nipples. “Why would I be upset? We lived separate lives before now. The past is the past. The giving and receiving of pleasure is nothing to be ashamed by.” Then she chuckled softly. “It’s probably good that one of us is experienced in what is to come.”

Her nails caught the edge of the hard buds of his nipples and Bucky moaned. “You’re doing just fine for someone who hasn’t done this before.”

“We have classes.”

Bucky caught her hands as the drifted back down. “What? Classes?”

“In the art of sex.”

He dragged her around in front of him. “What?”

She giggled at the look on his face. “Why does this surprise you?”

“You… I…”

Eira laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “In a society of women warriors who have little time to discover such things naturally, and whose job it is to serve in the Halls of Valhalla, such classes are necessary, though whether we choose to implement such teachings is completely up to us.”

“They teach you about sex?” He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea.

“Why not? They teach us everything else. Freyja is the Goddess of Love and War. As one of her people, it is part of our way of life. Love is not something to be ashamed of, sjelevenn. Some choose never to have a male lover, more inclined to the touch of a woman. Some never take the same lover twice, but work their way through the Einherjar with vigour and enthusiasm. And still others, like me, choose to wait for the right partner. None of us are wrong in our choice, only different. And when the village beyond our walls was bigger, it was said many a Valkyrie married and had children. Love and the act of love is part and partial to who we are.”

The press of her breasts against him was highly distracting, but the conversation was fascinating. The way he was raised and even the western mentality and way of thinking about sex and love was so different to how open and honest she was. It was, in a way, freeing to think about. “No wonder you’re not shy.”

She barked a peel of laughter and drew him down for a kiss. “Oh, sjelevenn! Were you soft and hesitant with me because you thought I would be nervous?”

“Yeah, a little.”

She shook her head, eyes dancing with amusement. “A super soldier and a gentleman,” she purred, drawing her hands forward and down his chest to fall to the ties on his pants. “Perhaps I am a little bit nervous, but I am far too excited and willing to allow my nerves to surface. Already your touch warms me, makes my heart pound and my womb ache. I am wet, and my body cries out for yours. I want to know what it feels like when you are buried so deep we have become one.”

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky breathed watching her sink to her knees.

“You must step out of your boots, _min modige kriger_.”

_My brave warrior_. Emotion swelled in his heart and choked his voice when he whispered, “Sjelevenn,” for the first time.

Her breath stilled, and her hands frozen. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “You warm my heart.”

He touched her cheek. “And you’ve thawed mine.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek. “James,” she whispered. “Step out of your boots.”

Her eyes never left his as she held his ankle and helped him slip them off and put them aside. Then she rose up on her knees, her palms gliding up his legs, over his thighs and hooked her fingers in his waistband. She used both hands to draw his pants down, allowing his cock relief from its confinement.

“Beautiful,” she sighed as he stepped out of his pants. “I knew you would be. Thick and long and perfect.”

“Kitten, you keep talkin’ like that, you’re gonna give me an ego,” Bucky chuckled, already feeling the surge of masculine pride brought on by the admiration in her eyes. She smiled sweetly while wrapping her hand around his cock to which she gave a long, smooth stroke. “Fuck…me.”

“I plan to,” she snickered.

“Baby girl. These classes of yours, were they all theory?”

“Mm,” she hummed, watching her hand glide over his skin. “Diagrams and discussions once I was close to becoming a maiden.”

“You wanna put theory into practice?” he challenged with a sultry smile.

Long lashes lifted as she raised her gaze back to his. “Do you want my mouth, sjelevenn?”

It felt like a punch to the gut the desire hit him so hard. “If my Valkyrie is willing.”

She smiled, leaned forward, and licked him from root to tip without breaking eye contact. Bucky grunted when the coil tightening in his groin appeared to jerk against his balls.

“Always willing,” Eira purred and closed her lips around him.

Bucky moaned like a two-bit whore. Hot and wet and sinful, yet still so innocent. She never hesitated, never slowed, but he could feel her exploring, tasting, learning what he liked as she went. A slow suck or a swift bob. A flick of tongue or scrape of teeth. It didn’t matter. He was game for all of it. All he wanted was her mouth on his dick, and to slide into the silky hot cavern of her mouth.

His hand went to her hair without thought, tangled in her braids and snapped a feather when he dragged her head back, tilted her chin up, and held her still as he worked himself over her tongue with slow rolls of his hips. “You do that so good, kitten. Such a sweet mouth. Use your tongue, baby girl. Yeah, just like that,” he murmured praise and encouragement and direction until he finally had to pull away before he came down her throat. “Damn, darlin’,” Bucky growled, bending down to seize her lips in a bruising kiss as he lifted her up and knelt with her on the bed.

“You didn’t finish,” she sighed, running her hands over his back when he moved from her mouth to suck kisses into her throat.

“There’s only one place I’m gonna finish tonight, and it isn’t your mouth, sjelevenn.”

A shiver raced through her with his words and made him smirk proudly against her skin. For the second time tonight he worked his way down her body, paying attention to all the spots he’d discover the first time that made her sigh and moan and arch against him. She’d have a multitude of hickeys tomorrow, but Bucky figured if he caught shit for it, it was still worth it to see her sporting marks of his passion. Of his possession.

When he’d made his way back to her belly button, he paused and ran his hand down that smooth cloth of her underwear, between her thighs where the silk was so soaked it was practically nonexistent. “So wet, kitten. All for me?”

“I never thought sucking a cock could be so stimulating,” she panted.

Bucky barked a laugh. Her honesty and plain speech would be the death of him. “I’m happy to let you do so again, baby girl. Anytime you want.”

“Next time I want you finishing in my mouth, sjelevenn.”

His cock jumped, more than happy to comply. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

The ties on her panties came free with a tug, and Bucky tossed the garment over his shoulder while he took in the view of his woman. “Fuck me. You’re a looker, Eira. So damn gorgeous.”

Finally, a flush bloomed in her cheeks. “I’m happy you think so.”

“I know so. I’m looking at you, and I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.”

Shy pleasure filled her smile. “Thank you… James.”

Happiness surged inside him with her use of his name. “Baby, I’m gonna make you scream so loud,” he murmured, pressing her knees apart and sliding his hands down her thighs. “By the time I’m done, you’ll have no voice left.”

Another shiver coursed through her. “Show me.”

He set his hand against her and slowly began to spread her wetness over her folds, sliding up to find her firm bundle of nerves while watching her face. The first touch had her gasping and arching into his hand. “Feel good, kitten?”

“Better than my own touch,” she gasped.

His cock leaked with her admission. “Yeah? You like to touch yourself, Eira?”

“Some… sometimes,” she moaned, her hips beginning to move with his hand.

“One night, you’re gonna touch yourself for me. Show me how you make yourself come.”

She whimpered but nodded. Bucky dropped to the bed, replacing his hand with his mouth and moaned at the taste of her. An answering moan drowned him out as she buried her hands in his hair.

“James!” she cried her voice rising.

Bucky hummed into her, her lips so warm and wet, the taste so potent. “Fuck, kitten. You taste so good,” he murmured and licked her all over, thrusting his tongue deep to collect more of her honey before returning to suck and pull on her hard clit.

“James, please!” she moaned, head back and throat straining.

“Want you to come on my face, Eira,” he growled against her, returning to working her clit with swift flicks and licks of his tongue. A sweet cry or sultry moan accompanied every sharp tug of his hair as she rucked her hips up into his mouth.

“Don’t stop!”

Her voice was growing frantic, harsh with her ragged breathing, and Bucky pressed the middle finger of his metal hand into her and curled it up against her walls as he growled, “Come for me now!”

The scream he wanted to hear shattered the silence. Her hips lifted and walls clamped around his finger as he pushed her through it, keeping the wave of bliss rolling. Ragged sobs and gasps for breath matched every lash of his tongue on her pulsing clit until she pushed weakly at his head.

“Stop, please stop.”

Slowly he drew his finger from her fluttering core and sucked it clean before crawling up her body. He dropped kisses along the way, on her hip bone, her belly button, the inner curve of her breast, and collarbone, and settled at her side. Propped on his elbow, Bucky drew lazy circles on her flesh with his fingers and watched her recover.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, staring at him in awe. “Can all men do that?”

“Nah, just me,” he smirked, flinching when she smacked him in the arm. “I’m sure some can. It’s whether they want to. A lot of men are only in it for their pleasure. I’ve always found more enjoyment in the act if everyone has a good time.”

“I find I am irrationally jealous of the other women you had _a good time_ with,” she murmured, caressing his jaw.

He caught her hand and placed a kiss to the center of her palm. “They were just a way to pass the time till I could find you.”

She melted, and her smile turned warm and soft. Eira wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss that warmed his blood and had him sliding his hands over her body. “I want you, James,” she sighed against his lips as she wrapped her leg around his hip and rolled hers into him.

The hot wet center of her rubbed over his shaft, and Bucky rolled her beneath him, careful of his weight.

Her hands framed his face, her thumb sliding over his jaw and caressing his lips as she peered up at him with a look full of love. “You can’t hurt me, sjelevenn. I’m no fragile Midgardian. I can take your weight, your burdens, your strength. Don’t hold back with me.”

“Eira,” he whispered hoarsely, his heart too full for words.

“Show me everything. Give me all of you.” She feathered gentle kisses over his lips.

Bucky moaned and let his head fall to her shoulder, overcome by her generosity. Her legs wrapped his waist as he shifted to align their centers and groaned when scorching wet heat enveloped the tip of his cock. “You’re so perfect, Eira,” he whispered against her throat as he began to roll his hips forward.

She was tight, a virgin, but without a barrier, and so wet it made his passage easier, but he knew his size was difficult for experienced women to take without a serious stretch and went slow. But Eira only sighed in clear bliss and threw her head back on a sultry cry.

“By the Goddess, sjelevenn! You feel so good!”

She rocked up, and he was there, seated to the hilt in walls of silk and lava. The gripped and fluttered around him, testing his sanity and his control. Then Eira’s arms were around him, and her nails raked gently down his back. His control shattered like dropped china.

He surged back and clamped his hand on her ass, holding her leg high where he wanted it as the other braced him above her. He rolled his hips and snapped them down into hers, making Eira gasp in surprise pleasure.

He watched her eyes darken with every snap of his hips. Her breath caused her breasts to heave and bounce. Her legs grew tighter along with her sheath until it felt like she would strangle his cock. Fire pooled in his groin, burning and writhing, begging to be set free, but he ignored it in favour of watching her as she came apart beneath him this first time.

“Look at me, Eira,” he purred when her lashes fluttered. “Don’t look away.”

Her hands were on his shoulders, stroking, clutching, digging her nails in as her pleasure grew. “James,” she sobbed, tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. “It’s so good!”

He lowered his head and kissed her, nipped and pulled her bottom lip when coordination eluded him, and they simply panted together. “You’re so beautiful, Eira. Come for me, kitten.” He watched the pleasure pour through her body when she gave into it at his request. Her body bowed, her nails dug into his flesh, and she screamed a string of seriously impressive swears mixed with cries of his name to the ceiling.

Her body clamped around him as he surged forward, and Bucky saw stars when white-hot pleasure tore up his spine and squeezed his balls with every contraction of her walls. “Fuck! Fuck, Jesus! Eira!”

Every muscle in his body appeared to seize at the same instant his release tore through him, leaving him straining, hips flexing, as he gave her everything. Inside his heart, it was like a key fit inside a lock, something clicked, and then there was Eira.

His arm gave out when his muscles relaxed, and he fell on her.

The rapid beat of her heart in his chest slowed to a normal rhythm, eventually matching to his. He nuzzled her neck. She stroked his back. They lay their content and comfortable, still joined, Bucky semi-hard and recovering quickly.

“That was amazing,” Eira sighed, playing with his hair.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured against her throat.

“You’re heavier than I thought you’d be,” she giggled but tightened her legs when he made to shift away. “I didn’t say that was a bad thing. You are very warm, and I like the feel of you inside me.”

Her walls flexed, and his cock thickened. “Now that,” he chuckled, rolling his hips enough to drag his swiftly renewing body through hers, “really is just me. Well, and Steve. We have quick turnaround times.” He’d, unfortunately, heard Steve and Y/N and their rounds of marathon sex more than once.

“Mm,” Eira hummed, rocking with him. “How lucky for me. Valkyries are passionate creatures. I think I will quite like this part of being sjelevenn.”

“Good,” Bucky chuckled as he rolled over, bringing her down over him. “Cause I want my mark.”

“Really?” she asked hesitantly. “I can wait if you want more time together first. A mark is irrevocable once placed.”

Bucky caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Eira, I’m in. Place your mark… sjelevenn.” Her core clenched around him with the word and Bucky smiled when she did.

“Then I guess I’d best get to work,” she smirked rising over him.

Bucky's grin widened when he lifted his hands to her breasts, one of flesh and one of metal, and the light glinted off the arm ring Freyja had given him. The manipulating Goddess may be his new favourite person.

Then Eira flexed around him, and every thought but one fled his mind as they spent the rest of the night learning and loving and cementing the bond between them.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Does drunk Steve need a warning? Fights, blood, violence, language  
> Song: Howl by Florence and The Machine

## Chapter Nineteen

* * *

The feast had devolved into chaos, and you loved it. The men were drunk, some singing randy songs which would make a whore blush. Others had passed out after Thor had challenged them a drinking contest. Tables had been shoved aside to make room for the impromptu boxing competition which had started; a friendly bought overseen by Odin. And through it all, your Valkyrie blended, laughing and making sure everyone had a good time, seeing no one's ale ran dry.

The Ragnarsons were cheering on their favourite in the fight, all shouting and laughing and very drunk while you stood back and watched.

You'd missed this. Missed the chaos and debauchery. The rivalry and friendships. The noise.

Still, running beneath it all was a note of discord. Like someone rang an off-key bell or clapped off the beat. It scraped against you. An itch in your brain you couldn't scratch.

A turn around the hall in search of the source led you to the seat of Gunborg and her crew. They glared as you passed, not even bothering to hide their displeasure. Brynjar, Gunborg's sjelevenn, had claimed the seat beside her. His hands were possessive on her waist and thigh as she sat straddling the bench with him wrapped around her back. He had his face buried in her neck, but it was the scent of steel against his spine that made you frown.

He’d brought a sword into Valhalla?

Striding through the crowd, you stopped beside them. “Gunborg. Why is your sjelevenn carrying a weapon in this sacred hall?”

She blinked at you, a sneer curling her lip. “Brynjar wears it for my protection.”

“It is forbidden! Hand it over.” You held out your hand.

“And if I refuse?” Brynjar scowled, lifting his head from her neck. “I have the right to protect my woman from all those who would do her harm.”

It was a dig, and you knew it, but you ignored it. “Beyond the Hall, you can carry whatever weapons you want. But in Valhalla, you will adhere to the laws, or you will get the hell out! Remove the blade, or I will take it from you.”

He pushed slowly to his feet, the tension rising as he did, and reached behind him for the hilt of the sword. You tensed, aware this could all go very wrong, very quickly, when an arm like steal wrapped around your waist.

“Hey, purdy lady,” Steve slurred in your ear. “What’s a place like you... doin’ in a girl like this?” He hiccuped and belched loudly.

You couldn’t help the giggle which slipped out. “I think you’re drunk, Steve.”

“Nah!” he scoffed. “I’ve… had worse.”

The red flush on his cheeks said otherwise, as did the way he leaned his whole body on yours. “Stand on your own two feet and say that,” you snickered.

He snorted and pushed up only to wobble and set his hand on your shoulder. “Hey… s’that a sword? Thought you said no swords?”

He said sword like _swored_. It was freaking adorable. “Yeah, Steve. No swords in Valhalla. Brynjar was about to hand it over.”

Gunborg’s sjelevenn eyed the two of you for a moment likely remembering the punch Steve hit him with on Earth. Finally, he pulled the sword free and turned its hilt to face you.

“There, Queen Sváfa. Though if something happens to my sjelevenn, I will hold you personally responsible,” Brynjar grumbled.

“Bah!” Steve barked. “Guess you’re not... v'ry good warrior if you can’t defend yer... girl without m'weapon.”

“Steve,” you scolded.

“Those words sound like a challenge to me,” Brynjar sneered.

“Brin' it,” Steve slurred.

“Sjelevenn.” You turned into him, a steadying hand on his chest. “This can wait till tomorrow, Steven.” He was drunk, and while you weren't too worried about him getting hurt, you were concerned he might not be able to pull some of his better punches.

Then he looked down, and you could see the clearness of his blue eyes. The sharp quality you loved and realized it was all an act. He smelled like he'd drank three breweries, listed like a drunken sailor, and ran all his words together but it was all for show.

“You let your woman tell you when you can fight?” Brynjar snorted in disgust. “I think you are a pussy.”

“Or just chicken,” another man loitering called out.

Steve chuckled darkly. “Son, th'se kinds of words will get you in a whole lot of trible.”

“Prove it,” Brynjar goaded. “If you are Hurgid’s true heir, prove your prowess here and now!”

“Steve…” you whispered as if worried.

“My woman is adibral… adorbs… adorabible,” he grinned drunkenly and bent you back over his arm to kiss you with a whole lot of tongue. “And swee-sweet like honey. You gonna… cheer me on... babe?” he hiccupped and tugged the rings from his fingers.

“Drunken brawls…” you sighed heavily and took them from his fingers when he held them out and tucked them into your cleavage. “Why doesn’t this surprise me?” You waved him toward the cleared floor where the last round of combatants picked themselves off the hardwood and stepped into the circle with Brynjar’s sword in your hand.

“Sváfa!” Odin thundered. “Weapons are forbidden in Valhalla!”

“It was not my sword, All-father, but one brought in in error. The mistake will not be repeated; I assure you.” To prove your point, you flipped the sword in your grip and threw it straight up with all the speed and finesse of one releasing a javelin. It embedded in a crossbeam and hung there vibrating.

“Did you bring us a new pairing, Sváfa love?” Ragnar asked when Odin nodded in satisfaction.

“Brynjar has challenged my sjelevenn to a test of fists,” you grumbled, wandering off to go stand with Thor. He slung his arm around your shoulders as Steve and Brynjar wandered into the circle of men. Well, Steve listed as he stopped by a table to begin removing his knives.

Across from you, Gunborg stood gloating. It was clear she was looking for some payback. A way to embarrass you and knock Steve down a peg. Too bad they were in for a shock.

“What's he been drinking?” you murmured to Thor.

“The same as all the others. He appears to be burning through it faster than I thought.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

It was probably the serum. It was still a question mark when it came to what it could do. To what Steve and Bucky could push it to do.

They both burned through traditional alcohol like it was water. Asgardian liquor - the good stuff - was another story. Steve and Bucky had both gotten blind, falling down drunk off Thor's contribution to Tony's many parties, but you had no idea how much they'd drank to get that way. And this was mead, not that thousand year brandy he carried in his flask.

“So,” Ragnar grinned as he joined you. “A wager on the outcome, my queen?”

“You honestly think I'd bet against my sjelevenn, Ragnar?” You tsked at him and closed your eyes.

“Not going to watch?” The voice belonged to Ubbe and came from your back.

You glanced back at him with a glare. “Awake so soon? I'll have to tell Bucky he's welcome to hit you harder next time.”

Ubbe had always rubbed you wrong. Not because of his soul. No, he had one worthy of his place in Valhalla, but because of his wishy-washy nature. He'd flopped sides more times than a dying fish in the battles between the brothers. “Had you not been so soundly beaten, you would have been around when Steve explained I see better without my eyes.”

“A blind Valkyrie?” Ubbe smirked. “How are you not already dead?”

Thor's fist flew through the air, but yours was faster when you wrapped your hand around Ubbe's throat and squeezed. “You're loose tongue cannot be excused away thanks to too much drink this time, Ubbe. Watch your tone, or I'll see that flapping muscle severed at the root for the day, and you made to suffer till the renewal bell rings.”

Anger poured from him in waves, but he didn't act on it. “As you say, Valkyrie Queen.”

“It is time you got over the fact I did not collect you to Valhalla! Others also chose two of your brothers. I rarely collect the fallen.”

He grabbed you by the forearms and squeezed. “Father I always understood, but Ivar? You pick Ivar over me!”

“Now, now, brother,” Ivar snickered with glee, his dagger sliding gently beneath the curve of your hand over Ubbe's throat when he appeared at Ubbe's back. “Your jealousy is showing.”

“Just tell me why?”

You stared up at Ubbe. At the mania on his face and wondered if a mistake hadn't been made not sending him Fólkvangr. After centuries of denying him an answer, you finally gave it. “Because your loyalty was always in question. Revenge was your way, but instead of seeking it, you sided with the woman who killed your mother in cold blood. For that, you lost my favour.”

“I made my choice!”

“And I made mine! Remove your hands, Ubbe, or I will break both your arms.” You glared him down until he slumped in defeat and walked away.

You returned to watching Steve shed the ridiculous amount of blades he'd tucked away. His sharp eyes hadn't missed a moment of your exchange, though the remained heavy-lidded, and his hands fumbled a bit.

“I've missed you, Sváfa my love,” Ivar grinned wickedly and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You always stir up trouble, and Ubbe has been too proud since you've been away.”

“Let it alone, Ivar. I won't speak of it or Lagertha. You know this.”

You could feel him pout against your shoulder, but his father for all Ragnar's philandering had loved his first wife and still did. She for all her effort had not made the cut when it came to Valhalla and had moved on to Fólkvangr like so many others.

“We made our peace,” Ragnar said as he raised his horn to his lips.

You didn't comment. It wasn't your place to do so.

Steve tugged the last blade from his back and set it down on the edge of the table. It slipped off and tumbled toward the floor, causing him to stumble out of the way into the center of the circle of bodies.

Brynjar stabbed his final blade into the table top and strode confidently forward. “I almost feel bad for putting you at a disadvantage,” he smirked. “Admit you are a pussy and we can do this tomorrow when you can stand up straight.”

“Not a chance in hell.” Steve stumbled, shuffled, and shook out his arms before lifting his fists and squaring off. He weaved slightly, and his hands wavered. His fists loosened, and fingers curled oddly.

“Oh, crap,” you sighed when he pressed up on his toes and winked at Brynjar.

“Come, come…” Steve waved a loose hand. “I have more drinkin’ to do, and my girl to love on. Let’s get this over with.”

The word ‘let’s’ had far too many ‘s’ on the end of it, causing you to slap a palm to your face. “Steve. Just no.”

“What’s he doing?” Thor asked, frowning at Steve’s odd behaviour.

“Drunken Monkey,” you sighed. “I never should have shown him those movies.”

“Ah! The ones with that Chan fellow. Highly entertaining,” Thor snickered.

“Yeah, well, you know how he is. See it, try it. He’s always adding new fighting styles to his arsenal.” Still, you couldn’t believe he was going to give this a go _now_.

“When I am finished with you, all you’ll be doing is spitting teeth,” Brynjar smirked. “I doubt your woman will want your attention after I mess up your pretty face.”

“Aww! You think I’m purdy?” Steve grinned and gave a shaky bow. “That’s so nice!”

The people around the ring all chuckled. Men were standing on tables, others on benches, and a daring few had climbed up the columns to watch the forthcoming fight.

Brynjar’s face contorted. “NO! That’s not what I-” He didn’t finish, only hissed like an angry snake and made to punch Steve in the head.

Steve gave a drunken wobbled and weaved - as if by accident - out of the way of Brynjar’s incoming fist, then turned in a shaky circle as he stood up and swung out his arms, smacking Brynjar in the back of the head hard enough to set him lurching forward. “You hear that,” he belched, “my love? This one thinksss… m' face is purdy!” he stage-whispered, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“I’ve always thought your butt was pretty!” you shouted, causing more laughter to erupt from the watchers.

“Just m' butt?” He turned and waggled it your way, lifting his tunic as he stuck it out, completely disregarding the man in the ring with him.

Brynjar lunged, but again Steve’s “balance” betrayed him as he fell to the ground, catching himself in a pushup which sent the other man tripping over him and crashing to the floor.

“Oopsy daisy,” Steve muttered. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He collapsed all the way to the ground when Brynjar kicked at him, rolled onto his back and up to his feet, only to stumble forward, twist around, and fall into the arms of the crowd.

Brynjar followed him, the rage on the other man’s face growing with each passing second. Of course when Steve fell, with a delighted giggle, his right foot swept up and kicked Brynjar directly in the chin, snapping the man's head back and his teeth together.

Brynjar went straight down on his ass.

The men holding Steve by the arms lifted him all the way up and gave him a shove, sending him stumbling toward Brynjar. Steve fell toward him. His hands landed on Brynjar’s shoulders as if to stop his forward momentum, but Steve tumbled over the other man’s head.

In a move that was all strength, he jerked Brynjar along with him and threw the man all the way across the circle. Gunborg’s sjelevenn slid the last few feet to lay in a heap at hers and stare in disbelief at Steve.

At that point, the laughter around them ended. There was no mistaking the power it would take to throw someone like that, from a seated position, and with only his arms.

“Ha ha!” Thor laughed. “Well done, Captain! I like this Drunken fighting style. Maybe I should try and learn it.”

“You would be more a Lumbering Qaf than a Drunken Master. Perhaps the Captain should drink before every mission?” Loki smirked.

Steve chuckled as he rolled back on his shoulders and kicked up to his feet where he stood perfectly straight and steady. “It seemed a good time to try it out when I knew no one would get hurt.”

“You tricked me?” Brynjar barked as he climbed to his feet. “You fight with no honour!”

“The one without honour is you, daring to bring a forbidden weapon within the walls!” Odin roared.

Steve only held up his hand, causing many of the eyes around him to widen when he halted Odin’s forthcoming tirade. “I fought for the fun of it. I assumed that was the point, but if you want a real fight, then come at me.”

You looked at Steve standing there, arms crossed, and feet spread and smiled. “Why not make it fair, Steve. Loki? Give Brynjar one of your daggers to use.”

“Why must it be one of mine?” Loki huffed but pulled the blue blade from the air and threw it so the tip embedded in the floor between  Brynjar’s feet. “I want that back when you're finished.”

Brynjar and Gunborg exchanged a look. You would admit he was one of the better-looking reincarnations of her sjelevenn. Well built. Muscled, though shorter and stockier than Steve. He had close-cropped hair, an oddity compared to the others in Valhalla, but not unheard of. Only the leather straps which once contained the sword hidden against his spine covered his chest, causing a few of the women to send him appreciative glances though no one would dare approach him as he was Gunborg’s sjelevenn.

He bent and picked up the blade. “I could use my own.”

“I trust Loki’s to be true to form and without surprises,” you said, causing ripples of noise to run through the Einherjar.

“You don’t trust my sjelevenn?” Gunborg snapped.

You looked her dead in the eyes. “No.” The battle lines were being drawn, even in the Hall of Valhalla and everyone knew it.

“Let’s get on with it,” Steve growled, waiving the man onward.

“So eager for a beating?” Brynjar said as he moved back into the center of the ring.

“Nope. Ready to give one.”

Steve’s answer seemed to enrage the man further when he leapt forward, slashing and feigning, forcing Steve to duck and weave. Still, his arms remained crossed. His body relaxed and demeanour calm while Brynjar kept getting madder.

“Fight me like a man, dammit!” he roared.

“Son, you really don’t know what you're asking for,” Steve grumbled.

You could tell he was growing tired of the man’s arrogance and malicious ways.

“You run like a coward! Stand and figh-” Brynjar never got to finish his sentence when Steve’s hand flashed out slapped him on the cheek.

Shock ripple across Brynjar's face, but it was anger which narrowed Steve's eyes and furrowed his brow. “Coward isn’t in my vocabulary, but bully is.”

It was like watching a lion uncoil, going from lazy relaxation in the sun to protecting the pride in seconds. Steve’s arms slowly lowered, his hands hung loose. He turned his body to face Brynjar better and balanced his weight evenly between his feet.

This time when Brynjar tried to stab him with the blade, Steve’s forearm was there to block it. He knocked the incoming punch away with the other arm, then drove his elbow into Brynjar's nose with a snap that sent him reeling.

Blood sprayed from the fountain Brynjar’s nose had become, but Steve remained steadfast in the center, unmoving as his opponent shook his head to clear his vision and swiped at his face.

“Your mate will be known as the Breaker of Noses at this rate,” Ragnar snickered quietly.

“Finish him!” Ivar snarled, causing others to scream the same.

“Wait for it,” you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

Brynjar gave an angry battle cry and charged toward Steve. He swung and slashed, raised his arm again when Steve's hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. The series of blows Steve delivered were so fast, the three hits sounded like one, landing stomach, chest, and shoulder milliseconds apart.

The dagger slipped from Brynjar's grasp. Steve caught it on the way down even as his knee connected with the other man's middle, lifting Brynjar clear off his feet. A quick turn saw Steve stretching to the left when he brought his right leg around and slammed the full length of his shin into Brynjar's chest.

To say the man sailed through the air would be an understatement.

Brynjar’s landing was softened by the half dozen men who broke his fall. Then, he groaned once and went still.

A shrill cry left Gunborg when she rushed to his side, but it was drowned out by the cheer of victory which went up around Steve who returned to the table and began replacing his knives.

“Did your sjelevenn kill the other one?” Ivar asked against your ear.

“No. He could have, but Steve was holding back. Brynjar will be cold for the rest of the night thought.” You patted Ivar’s hands around your waist when Steve turned his attention your way, and his gaze dropped to them against your bare flesh. “I suggest you let go. His blood’s up and after that,” you smirked at Steve paced your way slowly with fire in his eyes, “demonstration. I doubt you’d like to be his next challenger.”

Ivar’s hands fell away quickly. “Holding back?”

“Indeed,” Thor grinned and clapped his hand down on Steve’s shoulder. “Well done, Captain! A most thrilling bought!”

Steve handed Loki his dagger when the God of Mischief approached through the crowd, but his eyes never left you. “Baby, why is it whenever I leave you alone, someone’s gotta come along and put their hands on you?”

You stepped into him and drew your nail down his bare, lightly sweaty chest. “Ivar’s always been affectionate, Steve, but at the end of the night, you’re the one I go home with.”

His hand delved into your hair, and his mouth slammed down on your mouth, took possession of it, and wouldn’t let go until you moaned at the feel of his tongue twining with yours. The warmth of his fingers registered when he retrieved his rings from between your breasts, held in place by the fabric binding them.

“Sjelevenn,” you purred wanting nothing more than to take him back to the keep and pin him to the bed, but the angry voice coming from behind Steve broke you out of your lust induced haze.

“Sváfa! I demand retribution!”

You growled low in your throat and walked past Steve when he stiffened. “For what? A fight Brynjar instigated? Not going to happen, Gunborg. It was a fair match so get over yourself.”

The mostly drunk men of the Einherjar booed and heckled her, only succeeding in making her angrier. “He used excessive force!” she insisted.

You barked a laugh. “Again I say, so what? Brynjar brought this on himself punching above his weight class. You sought to provoke a battle with my husband when he appeared drunk because you thought your sjelevenn would easily win it. You took a calculated risk, and you lost. Don’t spout sour grapes at me because you failed, Gunborg. Now, I suggest you gather your sjelevenn and leave. See to his care. He’s going to have a killer headache tomorrow.”

“I demand-”

“Your demands are denied, Valkyrie!” you bellowed, silencing the hall.

Gunborg took a step in retreat before she realized it and straightened quickly. “My Queen,” she growled through clenched teeth.

“Disrespect me one more time, Gunborg. See what happens.”

She stood in defiance for a second more before bowing her head, knowing this was not a battle she could win. “Yes, my Queen.”

“Take your sjelevenn and get out.” She bowed and made to walk away. “And Gunborg?” you called before she’d taken more than a step. “If my authority is so hard to live under, call a challenge. You want my crown so badly, come and take it.”

Rage flared in her eyes, but she only walked away.

“Was that a good idea?” Steve murmured, his arm secure around your waist.

“It has to happen sooner or later. I’d rather goad her into it than wait until they hatch some unholy plan.” You looked at Loki expectantly.

“I will begin looking tonight. If Garry is here, lillesøster, I’ll find him.”

“Good. I think the longer we let this go, the more it will fester.”

Ragnar shifted and drew your notice. “Tomorrow, we will speak more on the Einherjar.”

“Thank you, Ragnar.” You nodded to him. “I think it’s time Steve, and I left for the night.”

“You, Sváfa? Leave a feast early?” Ivar tsked his disapproval.

“My sjelevenn rides a hunt with Odin tomorrow.” You looked to where the All-Father sat again on his throne and were unsurprised to find his eye upon you. “He will need the rest.” Odin nodded his approval.

“I will be around,” Loki said as he wandered off.

Thor wrapped his arms around both you and Steve and lifted the two of you off the ground. “Valhalla has been much fun with the two of you here!” He laughed his big, booming laugh. “Perhaps one night you and I will have a match, Steven. Give these men a real showing!”

“And wreck everything in the hall!” you squeaked, unable to breathe until he set you down.

Steve sucked in a deep breath the same time you did. “She’s right. We’d wreck the joint.”

“Bah!” Thor scoffed, but he let it go.

“Behave yourself,” you smirked at Thor as you took Steve’s hand and led him through the hall.

All along the way, men nodded their heads and murmured greetings,  offering respect and occasionally a little awe mixed in. Steve took it all with a grain of salt, used to the same at home, and nodded back.

By the time you finally reached the roots of the tree and the path leading out of Valhalla, you were practically jonesing for a fix and backed Steve into the first shadows. You dragged him down by his hair and fought a vicious battle, all teeth and tongues and desperate need.

He yanked you in by the hips and took two firm handfuls of your ass, lifting you enough to feel it as his cock swelled and hardened against you. The nip he gave your lower lip was sharp enough to sting, but you could only purr like a kitten in response.

“Baby, you like watchin’ me kick that guy’s ass?” he smirked against your lips.

“Yeah, Steve. I think Bucky’s right. You’re going a little native on us, and I love it.”

Heavy-lidded, you could still make out the bright blue of his eyes, made all the more prominent by the liner around them, and the smile on his face. “Then maybe I should just go full Viking.”

Slowly, his fingers began to shift on your ass, hiking the back of your skirt up your legs. “Steve, I’m not fucking you in Valhalla.”

His devilish grin was worthy of Loki. “No, min vakre skjoldpike, _I’m_ gonna be fucking you in Valhalla. And don’t tell me it doesn’t happen. You think I can’t see in all those dark corners and alcoves, or hear the muffled cries?”

You smirked at him and drew your nails down his chest. “I have a better idea,” you whispered against his chin as you brushed your lips over his thickening beard.

“And what’s that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side when you moved down to suck gently on his mark.

A quick thrust and shove broke the hold he had on you. “Catch me if you can, sjelevenn.” You threw your surprised husband a wink, gathered, your skirt, and were gone in a jangle of metal.

He was after you like a shot as you darted out into the night.

The wolves lifted their heads and howled as you passed between them, the eagle on the roof screamed, and you laughed, racing into the dark. It only took a dozen strides for Steve to catch you, spin you, and pin you to one of the many boulders decorating the path to Valhalla

“Woman,” he panted, his heart pounding and breath heaving having nothing to do with the short run. His hands were on your breasts, your waist, your ass, groping, clinging, grinding you against him.

Your blood howled for him, a beast writhing in your veins when you tore his tunic all the way open and ran your hands over his chest. He hissed when you nails dug in, raked downward, and moaned when you teeth skated across his pectorals, biting kisses into his flesh until you swept your tongue over his skin and felt the beat of his heart pound against it.

The moon broke through what clouds had hidden it from view and bathed you both in its pale light. You flipped your positions, slammed Steve back into the stone and dragged your mouth down the centerline of his beautifully smooth skin.

“Baby,” he growled, his hands sinking into your hair to drag your head up and capture your mouth again.

“You make me like this,” you whispered against his lips.

Your heart chased the beat of his in your chest, pounding in time, and driving you wild. Pleasure seared through your body with every stroke of your hands, every tightening grip of his, building the same inferno as earlier until you felt your skin would melt if you didn’t touch, take, seize every moment with him.

You sank your hand into his pants and gripped him, slowly stroking his cock while nibbling his lip. Steve’s hands had fallen to the rock behind him, helping hold him up. He was bent backwards, shirt open, eyes dark and full of lust. The tangle of leather ornaments around his neck shifted further to the side with every heaving breath. His lips plump and slightly parted and he started at your mouth as if starving for a taste. He looked wrecked, fully and completely beneath your control while you leaned over him, grinned a Cheshire cat grin, and squeezed his cock.

“No mercy tonight, sjelevenn. No holding back,” you murmured, lowering your head to sweep your tongue over his nipple. “I want teeth, and stone against my back, and hands that leave bruises.” You sank your free hand into his hair and pulled him toward you.

“You want a fight, baby? Is your blood up, Y/N?” One hand lifted and wrapped around your throat.

“You know it is. Watching you fight is like foreplay for me.”

His grip shifted to the back of your neck and dragged you down into a kiss that bruised and dominated. The kiss grew sloppy, and he drew away enough to breathe and skim his lips down your throat where his teeth clamped over your pulse, and you shook as pleasure poured through your body.

“Steve!” fell from your parted lips and rolled through the night across dark hills and frost coated ground.

He growled like a bear and spun you into the stone, his body coming down on yours. “Fucking mine. Beautiful. Gonna make you remember who you belong too. So fucking tired of seeing other men with their hands on you, baby.”

Rough hands squeezed your breasts and made you moan, but when he began tugging at your top, you shoved him back and darted past him. “You didn’t think I’d make it that easy did you?” Your laughter followed as you ran barefoot through the long grass, cold and damp against your soles.

He gave an angry grunt and gave chase a second time, acting the part of big bad Viking though excitement was what rippled in his heart. “You’re gonna make me pink your ass, baby girl.”

“Promises, promises, Stevie. You know I wike it,” you called, racing around the far side of a large rock where you turned to watch him stalk out of the dark into the flickering torchlight. Fog curled around his ankles. Gold glinted at fingers and wrists. More shone in the ropes which hung against his chest and the pendant which flashed light below the hollow of his throat. Blue like the sky was his eyes, sharp and watchful and so stunning lined with kohl.

You breathed a soft, “Fuck…” so happy to have a partial bit of sight back so that you could see _this_.

“Little heathen,” he chuckled, leaping to the top of the stone to sit crouched, waiting for your next move. “You gonna run? Or you gonna come here like a good girl?”

You backed up a step, and he tensed. “I’d rather the stone walls of the keep against my back when you make me scream, sjelevenn, than the stone beneath your feet,” you smirked and darted away again.

“Goddammit, Y/N!”

You giggled and ran, letting him chase you across the fields. Steps away from the keep doors you were swept off your feet and slung over his shoulder. “Steven!”

“I’m done chasing my queen.” A heavy hand came down on your ass. “Let’s go to bed, wife.” He nodded to the two Valkyrie waiting at the keep doors as he bound up the stairs. “Ladies!”

“Your grace. Your majesty.” They giggled as you rolled your eyes, recognizing both from today’s first round of battles. “Might you need… assistance?”

“He’s a randy fellow. It’s fine,” you shot them a wink and slapped Steve’s ass. “Onward faithful steed.” He slapped yours in return and made you yelp.

“Behave, wife, or you’ll go to bed without getting yours tonight,” he grumbled, striding through the halls.

“That’s just rude, Steven,” you pouted.

He chuckled softly. “The way we are together, sweetheart, you know that’s virtually impossible.” He kicked your chamber door inward and stumbled to a halt. “Fuck!”

The scent hit you like a bullet to the brain. “Put me down, Steve.”

“Baby…”

“Put me down!”

He shifted you like a sack of potatoes to the floor, and you turned to face the carnage. “Son of a bitch…” Someone had gutted a goat in the middle of your bed.

Blood pooled and ran in rivers from the carcass. It had sprayed in giant arcs over the walls and ceilings and dripped from every possible corner. “It would have been more than one. Had to be. Unless…” You grabbed Steve’s hand and back quickly out of the room. “Loki!”

The God of Mischief stepped out of the shadows. “Sváf- Odin’s beard!” His hand whipped up, and the door slammed shut. “Did you touch _anything_ in that room? _Anything_?”

“I kicked the door in,” Steve said, “but we only made it a step inside before we backed out and she called you.”

Loki visibly sagged in relief. “That’s a curse. A death curse. If you’d gone in, even touched the door handle, there would be nothing I could do.” He snapped upright, and a green glow engulfed his eyes. “I will get your weapons and see they are properly cleansed. For now,” he flicked his fingers and a portal opened at your back, “both of you are to remain here.”

He shoved you both backward into the room you’d shared in Asgard. “Wait! Bucky and Eira!” you shouted, grabbing his arm. “Loki, what about them? They came back much earlier.”

Loki cocked his head to the side and glared at the wall across the hall. “As they are fornicating like rabbits, I am certain they are fine. I will inform the Sergeant of your location should it be necessary. Then,” he glared at your closed door, “I will see to that and make sure it never happens again.”

“Thank you, Loki.” You released him, but only so you could wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. “Don’t tell Thor, but you're my favourite God of Asgard.”

He didn’t rise the flattery like you hoped. “Things are escalating, darling. This was too close.” A flash of green and gold light came, and he opened his hand. “You both need to drink this.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, taking the bottle from his fingers.

“It’s a potion of mine. It will see you immune to every brand of poison in the known universe.”

“Poison, Loki? Really? After that?” You pointed at the door.

“A grandiose plan with no guarantee of success. It feels… contrived. But something simple like poison in a cup after something so excessive could be easily overlooked when one is watching for a sword coming for their back.”

He shoved you through the portal. “That will be… unpleasant. But better an unpleasant few hours spent now than to lose you both prematurely to death. I won’t have it this time, Sváfa. I won’t!”

The portal shut with a snap and you shuddered in fear. “Steve?”

He wrapped you in his arms and held on. “It’s okay, baby. We’re gonna get through this. Everything will work out.”

“I think… I think I’m finally scared, Steve.”

He took your chin in his hand and held it firmly. “They did something similar to keep up apart, Y/N. The fact they went to these lengths again? That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I don’t know what to do about this.”

He smiled, slow and deadly. “Do you all eat together? Breakfast and stuff?”

“Yeah,” you frowned. “Why?”

“Because I plan on being late. Then, when we show up, all we have to do is watch to see who’s pissed off we ain’t dead.”

Again he grinned, and it was worthy of Loki. “Damn, you get any trickier you’re going to give Loki a run for his title.”

Steve chuckled and held up Loki’s bottle. “Guess we should drink this. How unpleasant is unpleasant?”

“This is going to suck ass, Steve. At least it will for me. You and that serum of yours? I’ve no idea what’s going to happen.”

He nodded gravely and pulled the stopper from the small bottle and eyed it. “Half and half?”

You waved a hand. “It renews magically from a supply he has elsewhere. You drink it all, then put the stopper back in. It should flash green and be full again. Then I’ll take my dose.”

“That’s… convenient.”

“Why do you think Thor’s flask never runs out?” you snickered. “Bottoms up, Stevie.”

He tipped it to his lips and poured it in. You watched him try not to gag, and finally swallow. “Fuck that was vile!” Steve stuff the stopper back in the bottle and tried to wipe off his tongue on his sleeve.

The bottle glowed green, and you took it from him. “My turn.” Taking a deep breath, you plugged your nose and tipped the bottle onto your tongue as far back in your mouth as you could get it. It still made you gag. “Oh, my god! Like sweat socks soaked in motor oil! Fuck that was gross.” You put the stopper back on the bottle and moved quickly to put it on a table.

“No what?” Steve asked.

“Now, we wait. Then the sucky ass part starts.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Once, but it wasn’t for poison.”

“What was it for?”

Warmth filled your face. “I may have fallen into the Asgardian equivalent of poison ivy.”

Steve chuckled and followed you when you went and sat on the divan nearest the fire. “And you drank stuff like that? They can’t just rub you all over with cream or something?”

“Poison ivy here lasts for months.”

He winced. “Oh.”

“That’s another reason everyone keeps telling you not to fall off your horse.”

“Check and double check. Stay in the saddle.” He curled around you and sat staring into the fire.

“They’ll expect you to kill the stag,” you murmured.

“I figured.” He sighed silently, but couldn’t hide the deep breath he took when it pressed into your spine.

“You can bow out if you want.”

“Nah. It’s fine. I’ve killed deer before.”

“You did?” You rolled over to look at him.

Steve nodded. “During the war. Guys have to eat. Especially me. Happy and Flasworth were good at skinning and butchering, but it was Buck or me who had to kill it. Better shots, and when it was freeze your bits off cold, or blizzarding, I was the only one capable of finding them and taking them down. But we had to eat. We didn't always have the luxury of an army camp.”

“If it makes you feel better, the stag will be eaten. Served here in Asgard tomorrow night.”

“That’s good.” His fingers brushed over your forehead. “You’re sweating.”

“So are you.” A flash of flames tore through your innards and left you gasping.

Steve took a shaky breath. “This the suck ass part?”

“Yup,” you panted. “Gonna have to take a rain check on the rough sex.”

Steve chuckled and leaned his forehead against your shoulder. “Yeah, baby. I’ll hold you to that.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. It wasn’t exactly how you planned to spend the night in the arms of your sjelevenn, but it made the suffering of Loki’s damn concoction a little less sucky to go through having Steve at your side.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Language  
> Song: Unforgettable by French Montana and Swae Lee

## Chapter Twenty

* * *

The shatter of pottery against stone woke Conner from his fever dreams to see a woman in white robes and a second in some sort of tribal garb standing together across the dimly lit cave. The woman in white was panting, her hands clenched in anger, having evidently been the one who threw the bowl now lying in shards upon the ground.

“A curse on all Valkyrie!” she spat, spinning to pace the room. “What the hell do we do now?”

“We should have taken them the moment they walked into the hall. Instead, that bitch is back on the throne, and the gods are once again watching what happens in Valhalla.”

Connor blinked. _Valhalla_? His memories were a trickling stream, returning bit by bit. Y/N and the Avengers. The Hounds and how close they’d been. How something had gone wrong with the chair, allowing Y/N to remain intact though her power had returned. Losing the fight when the Avengers had come for her, when _Steve_ had come for her, and ending up in a cell beneath the compound. Then Loki had appeared.

After that, the real pain had started. The God of Mischief had made it abundantly clear ‘Garry’ would not be leaving the pit he’d put him in alive. Yet, somehow, here he was. Connor felt like shit but he was alive, and neither of the women in the room with him sounded overly keen on the _gods_.

“Freyja and her meddlesome ways! I needed the Soldier! I cannot finish what we started without him!”

“Kerse,” the taller of the two said. “We will figure this out.”

The one in white jerked away from the other. “You don’t know that, Gunborg! We have burned through every sjelevenn bond but _hers_ trying to make this work, and now that Eira has claimed what should have been mine I can’t extend us any further!”

“Sister!” Gunborg grabbed Kerse by the shoulders. “You disrupted a bond three lifetimes together and knocked it off course. Can you not find a way to break one only a day old?”

“It’s impossible.” Kerse yanked herself away again. “His soul knows hers. Had he come to me without a bond, I could have done it, but he’s attached to her now.”

“Then take her place, Kerse! Change bodies with her as you have been doing all these years!”

The one in white backhanded the other across the cave. “Do you think I have not thought to do just that? I can’t, Gunborg! She’s bound to him! Her death means his. It is too late. I cannot put my soul in her body without killing them both. How do you think this has worked all these years? And with Sváfa alive, I couldn’t switch vessels if I wanted to.” She stalked away to pour a glass of something and drink it down. “I needed those idiot Midgardians to do their job and bring Sváfa back long enough to force her into a traitorous act. Instead, they return the Valkyrie Queen to Asgard with the most powerful sjelevenn on record at her side.”

Gunborg snorted. “I’ve always hated that bitch.”

“I need her dishonoured and dead, Gunborg. I can’t use the bond between their souls if she’s alive. I need the power of those threads! I’ve already burned out the others.”

“I know, Kerse. I’m sorry.”

She glared at Gunborg. “Don’t be sorry. Just fix it. If I could have forced the bond with the Soldier, I could have lived forever. We could have ruled Asgard! Now I must fix all these errors,” Kerse sneered and slammed her glass on the table. “You disappoint me, sister.”

Gunborg stiffened. “Your attempt to curse them also failed, Kerse.”

The one in white flicked a dismissive hand. “I never expected to succeed. I only wanted them out of the keep when Svengali returned with the Soldier, but now Eira warns his bed.” Anger set her clenching her fists and grinding her teeth together.

“What do we do with him?” Gunborg nodded Connor’s way.

He lay very still, willing himself to remain calm.

“Wait till he wakes, then find out what he knows. Fever babbling is one thing. Lucid information another. I want to know everything he does about Sváfa and her Midgardian life.”

“And then?”

Kerse stared at him for a long moment. “Kill him.”

***

Steve leaned against the wall in the shower, letting the water run over him as hot as he could stand. When she’d said Loki's potion would suck, well, that had been an understatement. It didn’t help that the pain they’d suffered had amplified back through their bond, creating the same kind of feedback loop as their shared pleasure.

A fire had seemed to shred through their bowels, leaving both of them a wet from sweat, shaking mess by the time the potion had finished working through their systems. Y/N was virtually comatose by that point, but Steve had managed to find strength somewhere to drag them both into the bath, strip them down, and rinse them off before carting their exhausted bodies to the bed and falling on it face down.

He’d slept hard, but it didn’t seem to upset his internal clock when his eyes had snapped open as soon as the sun hit the curtains in their suite. Still exhausted and aching, Steve rested against the wall and hoped his body would right itself soon. The serum usually took care of minor aches and pains within hours, but these were lingering. When Y/N’s arms wrapped around his waist and her body pressed into his back, he realized it was her pain he was feeling, and pulled her quickly beneath the spray.

“You okay, baby?”

She gave a tired nod, her body falling into his. “Remind me to kick Loki’s ass.”

Steve snickered and began washing her hair for her. “If it saves our asses in the future, that's what matters.”

She grumbled something unintelligible, then moaned when Steve massaged the soap into her hair. He chuckled, working his fingers over her scalp; watching her bite her lip to keep from moaning a second time.

“It's all good, baby. You can moan if you want to. Then I'll know I'm doing a good job.”

Her arms snaked around his waist. “You always do a good job, Stevie.”

Fingers gripped his ass and massaged his muscles in the same rhythm as his on her scalp. “You're playing with fire, sweetheart.”

“I thought I was playing with your butt, Steven. After all.” She cracked her lids open and smirked up at him. “It's so purdy.”

“Tease.”

“You know it, sjelevenn.”

She rubbed against him like a cat, and Steve spun her into the wall. “Don't be starting nothing now, baby girl. I can still feel all your aches and pains.”

“Then help me release some good endorphins.”

“Good endorphins, huh?” Steve arched a brow, then grinned like a devil. “The best way to release those endorphins is through orgasm, right?”

She giggled. “I was hoping you'd think that.”

He stepped back and shooed her toward the small bench seat. “Then maybe you should get to it.”

“Excuse me?”

Her look of disbelief made him laugh. “I think you should touch yourself, baby. Show me how you like it.”

“You're a shit, Steven.” She pouted, but sat and spread her knees, revealing her wet lips and soaked core.

“Someone's been thinking naughty thoughts,” he said, beginning to wash his hair.

Y/N leaned back against the wall and trailed her fingers over her body. “I woke up intending to suck my husband's cock, but then he was already out of bed.”

His cock twitched. “Next time I'll be sure to stick around.”

“You do that.” Her eyes locked with his as her hands drifted across her body. She cupped her breasts and tugged her nipples eliciting a whimper from her lush mouth. They drifted down and pulled her lips apart, giving him a delightfully obscene show Steve loved. Her fingers traced around her wet cunt before plunging into her pussy. She gasped and moaned and purred her pleasure, grinding against her hand.

“That's it, baby girl.” Steve tipped his head back to rinse his hair, but never took his eyes off her. “Show me how you come.” He collected another handful of soap and began washing his body. If he paid particular attention to his cock, who would blame him.

“You like watching, sjelevenn? Like touching yourself as I imagine your hands on my body. Your lips on my skin. Your cock-” she gasped after thrusting her fingers hard into her body, “plunging into my fucking wet cunt?”

“Such a mouth on you,” he snickered, stroking and squeezing his cock.

“You like it. You like me like this, don't you?” She panted as pleasure began to warm them both. Heat flushed her face when she brought her hand to her breast and tugged her nipple.

Steve grunted, feeling the sensation pull at his and streak to his cock. “Still playing with fire, dollface.”

A sly grin curled her lips. “You think if I make myself come hard enough, I can take you with me?”

Steve growled and yanked her from the bench, shoved her against the wall, and pinned her there by his hips. He locked her wrists above her with one hand while reaching for the soap with the other. “I’ll make you come, baby, but you're such a dirty girl. We need to clean you up first.”

“Steve.”

She tried to wiggle free, but he remained immovable; his fingers shackles around her wrists as he began to run the soap over her body. He washed her breasts, kneading and plucking until each nipple was a hard bud and her breasts were swollen, causing a tingling sensation to move across his chest. He stepped back enough to wash her ribs and belly, heaving with her erratic breathing, and dipped down to play with her curls. Then his fingers cupped her mound as he watched her face, watched her moan and writhe with pleasure; sigh with it even as Steve bit his lip to keep from moaning when her pleasure became his.

He delved deeper. Touched her hard nub. She jolted in his hold and cried out, her haunting eyes wide and unseeing beyond the haze of lust.

“So wet,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her collarbone. “Look at you squeezing my fingers like that. You gonna come on my hand?”

“Steve.”

The guttural groan of his name made him smile. He nipped his teeth into her flesh, soothing the sting only when she whimpered. The slick poured from her, soaking his hand as he pet her, smearing the liquid over her lips and clit.

“You need to come, baby girl. I want you to come. Then I’ll give you what you want.”

She whined a protest when he circled her bundle of nerves, but the tight coil he could feel in his abdomen was growing stronger with each pass of his fingers. Steve kissed her cheek, her jaw, her chin. He found his way to her lips and nipped his teeth into her bottom one whispering, “Come on, baby doll. Come for me. Show me what a good girl you are. Squeeze my fingers.”

“Steve!” Her lips chased his, but Steve kept his kisses light, teasing, tormenting her with the skimming brush.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He brushed their lips together and slipped his middle finger into her fluttering walls. “Ride my hand. Take what you need. Come for me.”

Her hips bucked, grinding down on his hand as the heel of his palm worked against her mound. The sound was sinful, obscene even, the wet smacking of her core against his hand. Steve was so turned on, so aroused, his dick ached from lack of pressure.

“Fuck, baby girl. If you don’t come soon I’m gonna explode for want of bein’ inside you.” He released her wrists to close his hand around her throat. She rasped a ragged breath but shook with pleasure, and he squeezed a little tighter. Her hands fell to his arms. Her nails dug into his biceps, but Steve only brought his lips to her ear. “You’d better do it, my queen. You’d better fucking come right now, or I’ll drag you out of this shower, turn you over the sink and paddle that ass pink and take what I want from you.”

Everything went still, and she inhaled deeply before wailing in pleasure when her walls clamped down around his fingers. Steve wasted no time, just dragged her from the wall, turned her around, forced her to sway her back and kicked her feet apart.

“Dirty, filthy girl,” he growled against her ear. “My beautiful queen who likes it rough. Who wanted me to fuck her against the stones last night. Leave bruises and bite marks.” Steve brought his hand back to her core and rubbed her juice over his palm before slicking it up the crack of her ass. She shook and quivered, unable to speak only voice her pleasure in whimpers and moans when he dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to her core.

He slicked his tongue up and down her body, tasting every bit of her pretty pussy. “You make me fucking crazy. I swear all I want to do is find another flat surface to fuck you on.” His cock throbbed and jumped, wanting to be where he was thrusting his tongue.

“Steve!”

Her sobs were like music, high and sweet, urging him onward, forcing her to rise and peak a second time, and then a third before her shaking legs gave out. He grabbed her by the waist to keep her on her feet and surged back to his.

His teeth found her ear then scraped down her throat. “ _Beg_ for it.”

She whimpered, looking back at him with pleading eyes.

Steve tightened his grip on her hips, knowing he would leave bruises but unable to care. “Beg for it.” He dragged his cock the length of her wet core, relishing the heat.

“Please, please, sjelevenn… please. I need you.”

He clamped his teeth on her shoulder and drew her slowly back, pressing through her hot, swollen walls, and moaned at the tight vice-like grip of her sheath.

“Oh, god, Steven!” She laid her cheek against the stones and shook all over.

The heat of the water pounding on his back could not compete with what pulsed around his shaft. The sweltering heat, the sucking pleasure, the flutter of her contracting walls, all dragged him swiftly down the path completion. He set a blistering pace, determined to give her everything she desired.

Her arms gave out, failing at the elbow to lay against the wall. She rested her forehead against them, her cries echoing, growing in volume until her screams of bliss seemed never-ending.

Steve panted and moaned against her ear, losing himself to her body. “Come for me, my queen. My Valkyrie. I need you to come for me.”

A glass shattering shriek pierced the air as her body let go and closed like a trap around his cock. Heat seared his spine and seemed to boil in his balls before exploding from him in bolt after bolt of release. Unable to contain his pleasure, he let loose a roar worthy of a beast.

As she slumped into the wall and nearly fell, Steve caught her around the waist, holding them both up by sheer will.

“I think…” Y/N gasped in air. “Next time… you go all beast mode… let’s make sure we’re on or near a bed.”

Steve chuckled and laid his forehead on the cold stone wall of the shower. “Roger that.”

Her smile was smug when she gave it. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll move us both.” Steve gave in to his shaking legs and sat on the floor of the shower with her in his lap. “That was some show, baby girl.”

“I quite enjoyed the one I got in return.” She kissed his jaw and giggled.

“If you two are quite finished, I have news.”

The clatter of metal hitting the floor made Steve jump, but as it was Loki speaking, he didn’t leap more than an inch out of his skin.

“Loki! Get the hell out!” Y/N squealed.

“It’s not as if I can see anything, though I must say, congratulations, Captain. I’m impressed by your vigour.”

“I’d thank you, but I’m pretty sure my wife would hit me if I did.”

“I may hit you anyway,” she grumbled.

Loki chuckled darkly. “I’ve cleaned everything and removed the lingering vestiges of the curse. Once you're dressed, we will test the potion you both drank to see its effectiveness.”

“Loki… get _the fuck_ out before I convince the Hulk to kick your ass again!” Y/N threatened.

“Yes, yes. I’m going. It isn’t as if I wish to see you or the Captain in your nudity, but if I’d waited for you to come out on your own, who knows how long that would be. You’re rather… engaged in each other.” The door to the bath shut with his leaving.

Steve found some strength to heave them both off the floor and step beyond the shower. The water shut off without assistance, making him shake his head in wry amusement. “Stark would have a field day here.”

“Mm. Tony would insist on knowing how everything works, but he still considers science and magic separate entities. That’s not how Asgard works.”

Steve wrapped them both in towels then grabbed a third to dry her hair. Before he could complete the action, green magic whipped around them both. Between one moment and the next, they were dry, dressed, and ready for the day.

“Dammit, Loki!” Y/N barked.

“If I wait for you two to finish, there will be touching, and that leads to things I have no wish to overhear a second time!” Loki snapped from the bedroom.

“Then you shouldn’t be wandering in places uninvited!”

A snort burst from Steve when he was unable to contain his laughter. They were like siblings. Like he and Bucky had been growing up.

“This isn’t funny, Steven.”

He snagged her around her white leather clad waist and tugged her closer. “It’s a little funny.” Steve placed a tender kiss on her pouting lips. “You’re gorgeous, min vakre skjoldpike.”

Her hair was up in mini braids which had been pulled back into one thick one full of feathers and metal. Dark liner made her eyes pop, while the deep red on her lips made Steve want to bite them like an apple.

“Fuck you’re beautiful.”

“Any time you two!”

“Alright.” Steve glared at the door. “Now I want to hit him.”

“Wait until he tests the effectiveness of this potion of his.”

Steve arched a suspicious brow. “Why?”

“He’s going to poison us both.”

“What!”

***

Soft, feather-light touches on his arm made Bucky smile long before he opened his eyes. Eira, his Eira, was enthralled with the plates and watching them move. She liked following the connections and joins. Loved feeling the smoothness of the metal. Her fingers trailed up and gently brushed his scars, traced the ragged edges, but he didn’t flinch or stiffen. She’d made it abundantly clear they didn’t bother her, and when she’d placed her mark, Eira had put it on the left side of his throat. A reminder, she’d said, that his scars would stand as a testament to his bravery, no matter how they formed.

If he’d cried a little, she hadn’t commented, only kissed him until he wasn’t sure who inhaled and who exhaled, just that they breathed together.

Her lips brushed his ear. “I know you’re awake, sjelevenn.”

“Wouldn’t be if someone could keep her hands to herself.” He cracked his eyelids open and smirked at her.

Eira pouted prettily. “Why would I want to when this,” her hand skimmed over his chest, “awaits my attention.”

“Kitten, you looking for trouble?” Bucky reached over with his flesh hand and dragged her closer only to frown. “Now, I was sure I left a couple of real nice hickeys here.” He cupped her breast. “And here." He traced a finger down her throat.

She shifted to straddle his waist, her nipples pebbling in the cold air. “Valkyrie’s heal quickly. So perhaps you should place another if you so badly want to mark me as yours.”

Bucky flipped her to her back and pinned her arms over her head. “Baby girl, it would be my absolute pleas-” Loud banging echoed through the room. “I swear if that’s Steve, I’ll kick his ass.” He sat up, glared at the door, and snarled, “What!?”

“Sergeant! The queen and his grace are gone!”

Bucky was off the bed and dragging on his pants with the first urgent syllable. “What do you mean gone?”

“Their room is empty! No one has seen them since last night!”

Eira helped jerk his shirt down over his head and was in the process of handing him his glove when she paused to frown at his sword. “What’s that?”

An envelope of gold and green shimmered in the morning light, and he snatched it up. A quick tug had the letter out for him to skim. “Loki. Loki has them.” He breathed a sigh of relief only to stiffen. “Son of a bitch!”

“What?”

He thrust the letter at Eira, tugged on his glove and went to get the door. On the other side stood Ama and Magret. “Anyone besides you two know they’re missing?”

Both women shook their heads, eyes wide and locked on his throat.

“Good. Don’t tell anyone.”

“But, Sergeant!” Ama glanced toward the door across the hall. “There is a… _feel_ to the room. Much magic was worked there.”

“Yeah.” Bucky glanced at Eira who was shrugging into one of his shirts. Sure it wasn’t one of his t-shirts or the Henleys he preferred at home, but the linen tunic with its laced front and long sleeves fell to the tops of her thighs and made his mouth water when he pushed the door open, granting Magret and Ama access to their suite. “Loki’s doing.”

Both women walked in and smirked wicked grins at Eira who blushed but lifted her chin proudly.

“Freyja smiles upon you, sister,” Ama said, striding closer to clasp forearms with the maiden Valkyrie.

Eira relaxed a little and smiled. “The Goddess is good to me.”

Magret closed the distance and held out her hand. “Eira… had I known…”

“Sister.” Eira bypassed her hand to hug the woman. “Not even I was sure until last night. Now…” She smiled at Bucky who was helpless but to grin back. “I am certain.”

“You will need to take him to the temple later.”

Bucky frowned at Ama. “Why?”

“This is our first life together. We must seal the bond to the scroll of my life so, in the next one, the memories of you come forward,” Eira said, her tone soft and full of wonder for their future.

“Does everyone have a scroll?” Bucky asked, crossing the room to gather her to his side.

She shook her head. “Only those with sjelevenn. Until the bond is created, there is no need. Why remember a life lived without you in it? Why suffer the loneliness of knowing I’d missed you?”

He shook his head. “It’s just… in Asgard, you said the temple checked to see if this was your first life. I… don’t understand.”

“When we make the transition from Novate to Maiden, we go to the temple, and our souls are checked to see if they resonate with one of the Scrolls of Life, the ones kept for those Valkyrie who are sjelevenn. We are not born knowing of our past life. It must be returned to us. Relinked, if you will. The Maiden enters the temple sanctuary and is presented with the scrolls. Should a reincarnation be present, the scroll will resonate. The maiden is then presented with her past life, and it is returned to her through mystical arts I am not privy to understanding,” Magret explained.

Bucky scrubbed his hand over his mouth, a sick feeling in his stomach. “Is there any way to test if these scrolls are real?”

“Why would we need to?” Ama frowned.

He didn’t reply, only looked down at Eira who’s eyes were huge in understanding. “I think you’d best get dressed.”

“I think you’re right. Ama, Magret, I’ll explain in my room.” Eira pressed up on her toes and kissed Bucky on the cheek. “Sjelevenn. I’ll be back soon. You may want to change. I think today you may need your armour.”

“Yeah.” Bucky stroked his hand down her spine and patted her ass. “I think you may be right about that.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language  
> Song: Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney

## Chapter Twenty-One

* * *

Bucky was finishing the buckle on his sword belt when the door to his room opened. He palmed a dagger, but it was only Eira returning. Her leather was snowy white, pants tight, skirt faulds swinging around hips he'd worshipped with his lips but hours ago. The heavy silver breastplate was back, and Bucky had the ridiculous desire to run his hands over her breasts.

Sure she wouldn't feel it, but that didn't mean he didn't want to do it and when she stalked toward him, bristling with blades, Bucky swallowed thickly and sat down hard on the end of the bed.

“So that's what that looks like.” He'd heard all about Murder Strut; he'd just never seen anyone else pull it off before.

“What what looks like?” She stopped between his spread thighs and began adjusting his armour.

“My walk.” He batted at her hands. “Watcha doing, kitten?”

“Fixing this.”

“It's fine.”

“It's not fine. After last night, I know, now, how this,” she stroked her fingers down his left arm, “works. You need you cuirass to be tighter around the ribs, but looser at the shoulder. Right now, it's fitted as any standard armour would be. Honestly, it gives you away as a novice. A few tweaks, and you'll appear as one comfortable in his armour.”

Bucky stroked his hands up her thighs beneath the faulds of her skirt. “I'm no novice, sweetheart.”

“Mm? You often wear heavy armour in your day to day life, do you?”

The smug, teasing lit in her voice had Bucky grabbing her ass. “Keep it up, kitten, and I'll turn you over my knee.”

A fire simmered to life in her eyes as she shifted to slide one leg over his and lowered to sit. “I'd rather just straddle it.”

Bucky gave a wanton groan and rocked her body on him. “Baby doll, you're gonna be so much trouble.”

Her arms went around his neck. There was an even bigger smirk on her lips when she leaned forward and purred against his ear. “Sjelevenn, you have no idea.” Her mouth attached to his mark and Bucky went ridged with sensation, the pleasure pounding through his body.

“Eira.” He sounded like a broken record with the way his voice cracked.

“Come,” she breathed and made him shake. “It's time for breakfast.”

“That was cruel.”

“It was, wasn't it.” Her grin was all devious Valkyrie as she tried to shift off his thigh.

Bucky wasn't having it. “Nuh huh. You started it; you can finish it.”

“We will be late for breakfast. Are we not supposed to arrive looking concerned and flustered?”

“I can definitely get behind flustered.” A roll of his thigh made her gasp. “C'mon, kitten. You can't tell me you don't want it.”

“I do want it, but I also don't want to smell of sex all day.”

Bucky pouted as she rose from his thigh. “Spoilsport.”

“I'll make it up to you later.”

Her eyes held a promise that weakened his knees. His sweet Eira was a demon in bed, and he loved it.

“But first. Breakfast.”

She took his hand, and they left together, shutting the door tight behind them.

***

“I still can't believe that asshole stuck me with a knife.”

You chuckled softly as you led Steve through the halls. Loki hadn't even allowed him time to exit the bathroom entirely before a short blade slashed over Steve's exposed forearm. Laced with poison, you’d all held your breath, waiting to see what, if any, side effects would occur.

Thankfully, Steve remained unharmed, reporting only a mild burning at the sight of the wound that was swiftly knitting itself back together. It wasn’t until after he was assured Steve was fine and immune to the poison that Loki informed you it had been the same poison which had killed Helgi in your first life. Loki had been swift to return you to the Valkyrjur when you’d damn near taken his head off with your sword. Still, he’d nicked you with the same blade first, making sure you, too, were immune to the poison, one of the strongest known to Asgard.

You’d arrived in your suite, now clean and free of blood, and Loki assured you anyone coming through the door with ill intent would be met with painful consequences. It was a relief, and an even bigger one when he explained he’d warded Bucky’s suite with the same magic. Inside those two rooms, nothing could get to them without bringing the full might of the God of Mischief down on their heads.

It made you feel better, knowing at least while you slept there was security there.

“It was rude, but at least we know we’re good now though I want to pour the same concoction down Bucky and Eira’s throat. Right after breakfast, they need to go to the temple and seal Eira’s scroll.”

“Yeah. Least then we know she’ll be able to find him again, right?”

“Exactly.” You smiled when you saw Bucky and Eira waiting at the end of the hall, out of view of the dining hall where the low murmur of voices sounded a bit like a beehive droning in the background. “Sister.” You held your arms out for Eira who rushed into them. “Congratulations.”

The shifting shadows of your minimal vision couldn’t hide the smile on her face. “Thank you, my queen.”

Steve poked Bucky in the side of the neck. “So you took the plunge, huh?”

“Figured why wait? If it’s meant to be, there’s no point in fighting it.” Bucky shrugged, but his emotions were clear as a bell, his happiness appearing to almost glow around him.

“After we eat, you must take him to the temple,” you said to Eira who was already nodding her agreement.

“I will, but I don’t like leaving you for even that short amount of time.”

“I’ll have Ama and the others with me, along with Steve until Odin arrives, and Loki is skulking around here somewhere,” you assured her. “I’ll be fine until you two can return. We’ll take no chances with your bond.”

“Yes, my queen.”

You gave her a final hug and turned toward Bucky. “Welcome to the fold, Barnes.”

His grin likely matched yours for smugness when you reached up to hug him. “Guess this makes me family for real.”

“You’ve always been family for real.” You drew back to look at him. “Even before all this happened you were Steve’s brother. I’ve never not considered you mine.”

“Y/N,” he murmured before dragging you in for a hug that squeezed your ribs.

“Okay, okay. Love on your own Valkyrie.” Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder while grinning at Eira. He stepped closer to the blushing Valkyrie, gave her a little hug and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to the family, dollface.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Steve’s fine especially if we’re on Earth. I’ll never live it down if you call me your grace in front of the others,” he chuckled.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, we should.” You took a deep breath and turned toward the hall. “I’d say watch for disappointment, but I’m not sure it will matter. Gunborg may not have been behind this, but she likely knows who was. The Valkyrjur attended Valhalla last night. Eira.”

“Yes, my queen?”

“Once you’re back from the Temple, get me a list of everyone on duty at the keep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s do this.”

With a glance up at Steve, you took his arm and headed for the dining hall. The doors stood open, revealing the long space flanked in windows. The same kind of tables that had lined the hall of Valhalla filled this one as well, but the Valkyrie gathered only took up a third of the space at most. Still, they were a sea of white and blue, earmarking those Valkyrie who were on duty today, along with the young novates. The rest wore the garb of training, comfortable clothing easily cleaned.

Your attention appeared focused forward as the women came to attention and rose to their feet, but really, you were watching Gunborg and the women around her. They were slow to their feet, all wearing scowls. Gunborg’s anger was like a raging beacon, and you noted Brynjar was not at her side.

You slowed to a stop beside her. “Gunborg, how’s Brynjar?”

“What do you care?”

“He’s your sjelevenn, Gunborg. Of course, I care.” And you did. No matter how much she hated you, or the things she might have done, she’d been worthy of a bond with Brynjar, the longest lasting one in the history of the Valkyrjur. “Please. Is he alright?”

A flicker of something softened in her hard gaze. “He’ll live.”

“Good.” You smiled and moved on, tightening your grip on Steve’s arm when he inhaled to speak. Only once you sat at the head table did you lean closer and speak. “Don’t ever apologize for kicking his ass.”

Eira snickered as she sat beside Bucky. “Steve kicked Brynjar’s ass?”

Steve smiled at the novate with the jug of water. “Embarrassed it first.”

“What you do?” Bucky asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Drunken Monkey.”

Bucky spat water across the table. “You didn’t?”

“I did,” Steve said smugly.

“And I missed it,” Bucky groaned. “How was it?”

“I’ll admit it was amusing,” you snickered, “but incredibly impractical. And now Thor wants to try.”

Bucky snorted a second mouthful of water. “I gotta see that!”

You chuckled as you pushed back your chair and raised your hands for silence. “Sisters of the Valkyrjur, it is with great pleasure I announce a new sjelevenn bond has formed after a thousand years! Lift your voices in celebration for our sister, Eira, whose sjelevenn is my dear brother, James, son of Barnes!”

Loud cheers and whistles erupted as they all came to their feet. You could practically feel the renewed hope fill them at the news, and when Eira leaned over and kissed Bucky hard on the mouth, the noise doubled. To see a new bond form right before their eyes gave each of them hope that the possibility of their sjelevenn was out there, just waiting to be found.

The dark malady of shadow which hung over the valley and felt like pressure against your skin lifted slightly, appearing as new light pouring through the windows.

It was good, and a step in the right direction, but even as the darkness lightened around the majority of the gathered women, the half of the hall where Gunborg sat remained as dark as ever.

Again you raised your hands, calling for silence. “Brynhildr, Jesslyn, and Magret are posting lists against the far wall. On them, you will find where I want you training. Teachers, some of you have been reassigned into better positions. Novates, you will attend your classes as usual, and I will assess you there.

It was no more than a disgruntled murmur from the back of the room, but you could still hear it.

“She watches for one day and thinks she knows us?”

“Nera! Rise and come forward.” The speaker rose with uncertainty and wide eyes. “Find your name and speak aloud where I _think_ you should be improving yourself.”

She stalked to the back wall where Brynhildr smugly pointed out Nera’s name. “Footwork and shield art.”

“Am I wrong in my assessment?” you asked.

Another Valkyrie snorted, “No,” and a chuckle ran through the hall.

You smiled but didn’t join in their laughter, only waited till it settled. “The next bit of business has to do with them.” You motioned toward the doors where Terra and those former slaves who wished to remain walked through wearing long dresses of black. They looked smart and formal and nowhere near the slaves they’d once been. Each stood a little taller, though they all looked nervous. “Fifteen slaves. Fifteen! How dare the lot of you call yourselves Valkyrie when you allowed this to happen. Slavery has been outlawed on Asgard for millennium, and we as the Valkyrjur have many times fought for the rights of people enslaved!”

Faces filled with shame as the Valkyrjur looked down at their hands.

“I am aware some of you fought this decision, and I know two of our sisters were killed for their stance. Later this week, we will honour them and their pegasi as they should have been. We will lift their names to Freyja in glory of their sacrifice, but today we begin moving forward to erase the blight upon our history. They are slaves no more, each now a free person. Five will be returning home, the others have decided to stay on as household staff and will be tasked with overseeing our accolades. Let me make this clear. Terra is Head of Staff. I will soon set her duties and those of her team, but you will treat each of them with the same respect you would give any of your sisters. And because of this shameful, deplorable act, the wages they are owed will be taken from yours.”

“Valkyrie get paid?” Bucky whispered to Eira.

She winced but nodded. “Yes, quite well, but paying for ten years worth of wages to fifteen staff will hurt, even split over all of us.”

“You can’t do that!” The cry came from the darkest section of the hall.

“I can, and I will. Be thankful those responsible for the death of two Valkyrie and their pegasi are not being punished. Selky has paid the price for her mistakes, and I shall include this transgression among them.” You looked directly at Nera and Gunborg. Only one had the good sense to appear contrite, and you shifted your focus to Terra at the door. With a nod, you dismissed them from the room. “Moving on, Benatta, come here.”

The redhead stood and hurried forward to bow to the table. “My queen?”

“Benatta, we spoke once of the Jegere. Remember?” She nodded. “The Jegere were a separate, much-revered wing of the Valkyrjur. They were tasked with finding those worthy of becoming Valkyrie.”

“How?” she asked, her eyes wide in wonder.

“It is a gift, a rare one that has not been nurtured as it should have.”

“Are you sure it’s me?”

You motioned her to her feet. “Have you never looked at a girl and thought, “She would make a perfect Valkyrie?’”

Benatta nodded. “Yes, as I said, twice before.”

“That is the job of a Jegere, to find and return with girls for the Valkyrjur. The ones you know belong with us. Has anyone else experienced such a feeling?” you asked the rest of those gathered. Three more women raised their hands, and you motioned them to join Benatta. “After I return from the Einherjar, we will discuss your new roles and change of wing. From now on, the four of you will ride together.”

“A wing of only four?” Benatta asked. “But I thought wings were always of nine?”

“Yes, usually, but Jegere are special. Without you, our numbers do what they have in the last centuries. They dwindle until but a third of our tables are full. You four will have new duties and responsibilities. This doesn’t mean you will never be called to battle, but we need you to refill our ranks and train new Jegere when they are discovered. We cannot let our numbers fall so low again.”

All four pressed a fist to their hearts and bowed. “Yes, my queen.”

“Eira will call for you when we return from the Einherjar. I will teach you what I remember. Until then, see if you can find reference to Jegere in the archives.” They nodded, each looking a little shocked but mostly excited as they headed back to their tables.

“Finally,” you stood tall and turned stern, “It will take more than a blood curse to kill me, and when I find out who was behind the one left waiting for my sjelevenn and me in our chambers last night, I will show you no mercy.”

Half the women came to their feet and reached for weapons, most speaking in outraged tones.

Brynhildr, Jesslyn, Magret and Ama stalked through the group to come forward and bow before dropping to each to a knee. All wore the white of full battle dress, no different than you or Eira. Each looked ready for war, every honour gained through their years in the Valkyrjur on full display in the braids and cuffs present in their hair.

“My queen. If an attack could come even from within the halls of the Valkyrjur, it is time for you to choose your Honour Guard,” Ama said.

“We humbly submit ourselves for consideration,” the other three said together.

Oda pushed through the others. “I request the same consideration, my queen.”

May and Frey followed. “And us as well.”

“Brynhildr, Jesslyn, Magret, and Ama, your council yesterday was invaluable. You are accepted. Join my table.” You motioned them to rise and sit next to Bucky. “Oda.” She looked up hopefully. “You are a trainer of the little ones, but I think you are better suited to training others in speed and agility. You have the talent for it. If you choose this path instead, you would be giving that up. To hold that position is a great honour.”

She shook her head. “There is no honour greater than being in your guard.”

“Then I guess I will need to find a new trainer.” You smiled and motioned for her to join the others. “May and Frey, the skills you showed on the field yesterday were beyond compare. I welcome you to my guard.” They grinned wide and rose to take seats beside Oda.

“You need one more, my queen.”

You smirked at Ama and set your hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Why? My group of nine is complete.”

He arched a brow. “Did I just become an honorary Valkyrie?”

You snorted a laugh and sat down. “You wish, Barnes.”

***

Steve stood on the steps of the keep and watched the group of riders and half as many shaggy wolf style hounds race up the valley. “That horse has eight legs.”

“Of course he does. That’s Sleipner.”

He glanced at Y/N. “You say that like it should mean something.”

It made her chuckle and shake her head. “Remind me to make you read up on Germanic history when we go back to Midgard.”

“Only if you help me differentiate between the fabrications and the truth. It’s hard to tell anymore.”

“Of course.” She beamed up at him, her smile wide. “Have fun and remember what I said. Don’t fall off your horse.”

“I won’t.” Hopefully.

The group of roughly fifteen riders plus Odin came to a halt at the foot of the stairs where Sif was the only one to dismount.

“Your grace. My horse for you.” She bowed her head and held out the reins.

Steve placed a swift kiss on Y/N’s cheek and jogged down the stairs. “Your horse?” he asked Sif.

“I won't need him while here, and won't be returning to Asgard before you are finished. He is fast, sure-footed, and knows better than to dump his rider.” She gave the gelding a stern look. “He's also strong enough to carry your weight over rough terrain. May you have a successful hunt, your grace.”

She stepped out of the way, and Steve patted the bay gelding's shoulder. “He gotta name?”

“Baldor. He'll go well for you.”

“Thank you, Sif. I appreciate the loan.” Throwing the reins back over Baldur's head, Steve mounted with some semblance of grace. Enough not to embarrass himself, at any rate. With his shield strapped to his back and sword on his hip, he looked at the group of eight women and Bucky standing with his girl. “Buck.”

The man nodded. “We've got this.”

“I'll be fine, sjelevenn,” Y/N assured him. “All-father. Happy hunting.”

“Queen Sváfa. I'll return him to you in one piece.” Odin spurred Sleipner into a rear that had the big stallion pawing all four legs at the sky. “Loose the hounds!”

The six dogs bayed as their leads vanished and took off for the forest at the side of the road.

The others followed Odin, but Steve took a final look at his girl. “Be safe.”

Her smile softened. “Right back at you.”

He let Baldur have his head as the gelding tore off after the others. They hadn't gone far, the forest brush too dense to gallop through. Catching up, he urged the gelding up beside Odin. “What are we hunting?”

“Whatever catches the hound's noses.”

The lead dog howled and raced off, followed by the others. The riders followed suit, pushing through the underbrush into an expanse of an open ridge that sloped down into a meadow.

Never had he ridden a horse as fast as a car before, and while he was a little concerned they were flying over open, rough terrain, it was also thrilling. Baldur was a smooth ride, and as Sif had said, he was sure-footed and fast.

Steve shot a glance at Sleipner, fascinated by his eight legs. How did he keep from clipping his ankles?

The group thundered down into the valley where the dogs had slowed to race back and forth, apparently having lost the scent.

Odin frowned at the dogs before gesturing to two men with copper red hair. “Steven, son of Rogers, meet Balus and Gar, sons of Tarin. Two of your Vassals.”

“Your grace.” They both executed half bows from the backs of their horses. “We are honoured to ride out with both you and the All-father.”

“Vassals?” Steve grumbled. What was Odin playing at?

“They still serve the kingdom of Sváfaland though Asgard has been holding the seat for you. With your return, you will be reclaiming your duty.”

There was a gleam in the old man's eye. “That is a decision between Thor and I. I have duties and obligations on Earth.”

“Yet you are here.”

Steve would not be bullied by the man, God of Asgard or not. “At my queen's behest. Where she goes, I go.”

Odin appeared about to speak when the hounds bayed and the riders were off like a shot. Only eight were hunting, all as well dressed as Odin and the two brothers. The rest appeared support staff, packing spears, food and drinking skins of water or wine, Steve couldn't tell. And a larger draft type horse supposedly for packing home their kill.

The horses followed the hounds down the valley, and Steve noticed tracks. Deer, he thought, but larger than any he'd ever hunted. When the hounds again slowed to circle, Steve leaned over and had a closer look. “Deer?”

Balus and Gar rode closer.

“Yes, very good, your grace. We did not expect you to ride so well or know how to track.”

Steve shrugged, an action made difficult by his armour. “Not my first hunt. But I used to track on foot and in snow storms. You learn fast, or your men don't eat.”

Gar took a pull from the skin he held and handed it to his brother. Balus drank and passed it to Steve. As he could smell the water, Steve accepted. Asgard might be coming into winter, but the morning's exertion was sending sweat down his spine.

“The All-father said you were once an army man. A Captain, I believe?” Gar asked.

Steve capped the skin and handed it back. “I still am, though my men are different. Now I lead a group of enhanced individuals. People of special skills or powers. We protect the Earth.”

“Ah, I see why you are busy.” Balus nodded, but his face gave away his disappointment.

“I don't get it.”

They both looked up. “Get what, your grace?”

“Sváfaland has been without a ruler for how long? Hundreds of years?” They nodded. “Then why is it so important that I suddenly take on the role? I'm a soldier, not a king.”

“Thor is more a soldier than a king, but he does a fair job of being both.”

Steve glared at Odin when the former king spoke. “And has had a lifetime to prepare.”

“And you have a wife who has thrice been the queen of the Valkyrie. Learn from her.”

An angry retort was on the tip of Steve's tongue, but the hounds bayed and they were off again. This time they streaked into the woods where the undergrowth was sparse, allowing the horses to keep pace.

Vigilance was needed to avoid taking a branch to the face, and Steve was thankful for his quick reflexes. Sweat had begun to gather on Baldur’s neck and flanks by the time the hounds slowed a third time. The horses were all blowing hard, and they’d ridden a long way from the keep, crossing streams and meadows, chasing something they hadn’t even caught a glimpse of when all the hounds began to growl. The hackles on the beasts were high, their stance threatening when the first whiff of scent hit him.

“Blood. Lots of it,” Steve murmured to Odin.

“Spears,” Odin called just as quietly.

Steve caught the one tossed toward him, but when the others made to push forward on their horses, he swung his leg over and dismounted.

“Your grace, you should not-”

Steve shot Gar a look that had the man shutting up. “I can’t fight on horseback.”

As the others pressed cautiously closer to the break in the trees where the strong scent of blood was coming from, Steve skirted the clearing without a sound, avoiding downed branches and sticks. It may have been dozens of years since he’d hunted on foot, but it came back with a flash.

When he finally drew close enough to see what was making the smell, he grimaced. The stag whose trail the hounds had been following was gutted in the center of the clearing, its belly torn out and gathering flies.

“Norns! That’s disgusting!” One of the riders who Steve had yet to meet said.

Balus rode toward the carcass and poked it with the butt of his spear. “No animal did this. The cuts are too clean, and there is an arrow strike here.” He indicated the stag’s jugular.

The hair on the back of Steve’s neck lifted a second before the hounds began to growl. Something was moving through the trees. Something big. It came out of the forest with a crash and roar, leaping on the man beside the carcass in a flash of stripes and claws.

Steve gasped, remembering Thor and Y/N talking about a Smedlheim, a tiger as big as an elephant with antlers like an elk. A hide of green and brown and white, it had blended so perfectly with the foliage he’d never seen it coming. Even the antlers had the look of branches when the cat swung its head and knocked the dogs charging for it to the side.

Balus screamed as claws like daggers went through his thigh and pinned him to his horse, already dying beneath the fangs of the tiger.

He didn’t even think to hesitate. Steve raced from the trees, sliding the shield from his back as he threw the spear. A different weapon than his shield, he misjudged the weight and missed the creatures neck, hitting it square in the shoulder. Still, it knocked the cat clear off Balus.

The blood-curdling scream of the animal set Steve stumbling and swearing as he shook his head to clear the ringing. “Get Balus out of here!” he bellowed to the men who were trying to control the terrified horses. The only one not panicking was Odin’s mount, though he was digging at the ground with three of his front legs.

Steve leapt the carcass, Balus, and his horse, heading for the thrashing cat, screaming and growling as it snapped at the spear, trying to pull it from its flesh. He jerked his sword from its sheath as the cat wrenched the spear from its flesh. It rolled to its feet and hissed at him as Steve slid to a stop.

“Big kitty,” he muttered to no one in particular. The thing was huge and angry. “Nice kitty. I don’t want to kill you, but I will. Let us get our guy out of here, and you can gorge on the deer.” Claws clanged off his shield with the cat’s first swipe. “Or not.”

It charged, and Steve rolled out of the way. Randulfr hummed in his hand, the energy beginning to sing up his arm. He turned and dragged all that power down the cat’s ribs. Another scream followed the spray of blood. Steve thought it would run, injured twice and bleeding, but it only turned on a dime and came at him again. The paw that slammed into him was nearly as big as the shield and sent Steve flying through the clearing. He landed hard, but rolled to his feet, the armour taking the worst of the blow. The cat was charging again, but a glint of steel on the ground caught Steve’s eye. It was the spear he’d hit the creature with initially.

It was a quick calculation, and he wasn’t sure it would work, but Steve was willing to take the risk. Running for the spear, Steve threw the shield, sending it ricocheting off the Smedlheim’s antlers. It hit the cat in the forehead three times before flying free and embedding in a tree, but it slowed it down long enough for Steve to reach the spear, kick it up, and change course to intercept the cat.

He could already hear Bucky gripping at him about this being the stupidest thing he’d ever done as Steve raced straight for the lowered head of the cat. There would be no end of scolding if he got hurt, and the idea of getting injured and Y/N feeling the blow had him doubly determined to finish this quickly.

From the corner of his eye, Steve could see the men working to get Balus out from under his horse while others were fighting to keep the rest of the horses from bolting.

A half dozen yards from the cat, Steve threw the spear. This time it flew true, slamming into the cat’s eye. As it threw its head up and roar, Steve leaped to the lowest tine of its antlers and let the creature toss him into the air. It felt like time slowed as he twisted mid-leap, rising high above that cat, and fell slowly down to drive his sword through the top of the cat’s skull. It went down beneath him like a stone, falling to the ground in a heap, finally dead.

Steve dropped to a knee in the dense fur, panting at the exertion before checking on the others.

They had Balus up, and his leg wrapped, but all motioned had stopped as they stared at Steve. Mouths open and eyes wide. They appeared shocked.

Steve gripped the hilt of his sword and gave it a pull, drawing it from from the cat’s skull before leaping to the ground and using a handful of grass to clean the worst of the blood from the blade. Then he looked toward Odin.

The former king of Asgard leaned forward and crossed his arms on the horn of Sleipnir's saddle, a small smile curving his lips. “Yes. I see it now. Indeed you are Hurgid’s true heir.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Was this a test?”

“Not an intentional one.” Odin gestured toward the aid leading Steve’s horse. “Come. I have much to show you.”

“Your grace!” Gar called out, drawing Steve’s attention. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

Steve nodded as Baldur trotted closer. Once he was mounted, the aids turned toward the cat and began the process of skinning it. “What are you going to do with it?”

“It will be yours to gift your queen.” With the golden spear in his hand, Odin pointed it at the group of men with the injured Balus. They disappeared in a flash of golden light. “I have returned the others to Asgard where they can seek medical attention. Come with me, Steven, son of Rogers.”

Odin turned away, heading into the trees.

Steve took one last look at the men and the cat and followed Odin.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None, Russian that may or may not be correct.
> 
> Song: Lionheart by Demi Lovato

* * *

You watched Steve disappear into the trees before turning away, reminding yourself he’d be safe with Odin. Or so you hoped. “Eira. Take your sjelevenn to the temple.”

“Y/N, we could wait,” Bucky offered quietly only to have every Valkyrie gathered turn and stare at him in horror. “What?”

You looked at Eira who snickered softly before taking Bucky’s hand. “Come along, James. I’ll explain on the way.” Bucky grumbled about rules and how no one ever explained anything but followed her tugging with little resistance.

It made you chuckle, and you smiled at Sif. “Lady Sif, if you’d like to join me, I’m due to visit the accolades this morning.”

Sif tilted her head in agreement. “I’ve always been curious about the Valkyrie. I once thought to be one, but my place is with Thor.”

You nodded and headed across the courtyard to return to the keep, your guard gathered around you. The seven women walked in lines of three, two slightly ahead, two abreast, two behind with Ama taking the rearguard position. When Eira and Bucky returned, the lines would become that of four with Bucky and Eira taking the abreast positions May and Frey now held.

Over breakfast, the seven had discussed and decided the positions they would hold among your guard. Jesslyn and Magret were seasoned veterans. All agreed they had the best eye when it came to noting an oddity or trap and were awarded first positions, allowing them to see and scout ahead when necessary. May and Frey, the sisters, were fast and ferocious. They had proven themselves on the battlefield by winning their competition jointly. They stood second and would become the first line of defence, bypassing even Jesslyn and Magret should a conflict arise.

Bucky held pride of place on your left. He was your chosen guard, fast, alert, capable, and with his arm a natural shield, it made sense. He’d grunted his agreement, amusement evident, for the women had all looked at him curiously. They’d seen what Steve was capable of the night before. Now, all wondered if Bucky could claim the same prowess.

Eira, your sister-kin and _ledsager_ would walk at your right. She was meant to be your right hand, assisting in your day to day, and having her there was imperative. As far as you were concerned, she was a _maiden_ Valkyrie in name only. She’d proven her prowess and her sight and was worthy of being a guard, though there had been some grumbling at her status from those in Gunborg’s camp who thought to make trouble. But, as Eira and Bucky were now bonded, no one could call into question her legitimacy as a Valkyrie. Her place as your right hand stood.

Your rear guard, Oda with the swift feet and fast sword, and Brynhildr with the powerful arm and quick mind watched your flank. Separate they were formidable, combined they would be a force to be reckoned with. But it was Ama who like Eira had been for you since the beginning you asked to watch your back. It was a position of extreme trust; one the dark-skinned beauty vowed she would hold with honour.

In a gesture old as the Valkyrjur itself, you’d sliced open your palm and clasped each of their bloody hands, sealing the oath between Queen and Guard in an act of sacrifice. It was a promise to each other. As they would shed blood for you in your protection, so too would you stand with them in times of battle.

Already the wounds had healed, but it was a symbolic gesture, one with great significance. Even Bucky had sliced open his palm when Eira had explained what was happening. The ties of blood through the bonds of sjelevenn and that of kin bound you closer to him than any of the others besides Eira, but you honoured his sacrifice, mingling his blood with yours.

Then Eira had pulled one of her pegasus’s white feathers from her hair and given it over, and you’d run your bloody hand down the face before adding the feather to your hair. The act complete, the oath was sealed, and witnessed by the women of the Valkyrjur.

As you walked through the front doors to the keep, you looked up at the banner of Asgard, once more hanging with that of the Valkyrjur. One of the little ones had found it stuffed in a trunk, and it bore the seal of Odin still rather than that of Thor. “When you return to Asgard, Lady Sif, would you be so kind as to have the Colour Guard send us a current banner?”

She glanced at it, quirked a brow, but nodded. “It has been some years since I’ve seen that particular design.”

You chuckled softly and headed down the hall into the west wing. “Things were a bit… unkempt when I arrived, but we’re getting everything in order.” You didn’t know Sif well, she’d arrived at court only a few short years before the end of your third life, but you liked her. She was smarter than she let on, and sharper of wit too. She would have to be to put up with Thor and the others.

Sif had a look at the women with you. “You seem to have expanded your guard.”

You nodded. “They have all proven themselves loyal and worthy of my trust.” Chins lifted in pride all around you.

“And after the blood curse last night, she needs us,” Ama stated from the rear.

Sif shot you a sharp look. “You are well?”

“Fine. Loki dealt with it.”

“Did someone say my name?” He appeared out of the shadows only to have May draw her dagger on him. “Now, now. I’m _invited_ remember?” Loki tapped her on the end of the nose and nearly lost a finger when she snapped her teeth at him.

“Always causing trouble, _ugagn_. I thought you were doing that thing we talked about?” you asked.

“I am on my way, but thought I would stop and check on you, seeing as how the last time you said my name, it was for something quite dire.”

You shot him a look full of exasperation. “Go. Do. Learn things. If I need you, you’ll know. Or maybe I’ll treat you like Beetlejuice, and you can only come if I say your name three times in a row.”

He rolled his eyes. “What a ghastly film! I can’t believe I allowed you to force me to watch that with you.” He shuddered all over, then disappeared, but his glowing eyes and a wickedly wide smile remained. “I much preferred your Alice in Underland. The Cheshire Cat and Mad Hatter were far superior.”

“Cut it out! You know how creepy I find that!” His leftover body parts vanished, but his dark laughter faded much slower.

“I think that was the most disturbing thing I have ever seen Loki do,” Sif murmured, staring at the space Loki had once filled with horror. “What in the world was that!”

You sighed and shook your head. “He learned it from a movie.”

“Movie?” Jesslyn asked.

“Midgardians watch movies. They are stories told through moving images. Kind of like plays, or holograms, but much more in depth and with greater variety.”

“Should we return to Midgard with you, I would like to see one of these… movies,” Oda said.

You snickered, smiled, and nodded. “I’m sure you will see many things that will astound you.”

“You plan to return to Midgard?” Sif asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course. Steve and Bucky are needed there. We have a whole other life there. I may be queen, but I won’t make him leave that behind. As Thor often splits his time, so will I. At least I won’t have to pester Heimdall every time I want to make the trip.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Something akin to concern flashed on her face, but when she didn’t elaborate, you didn’t pry.

“Come. I’ll show you the little ones. There will be some testing. This could take a while.” You glanced her way. “I didn’t expect Odin so soon.”

“He was eager to leave.”

You continued down the hall for a few more strides before asking, “And what were they hunting today?”

“Deer, I believe. Maybe a boar. They had the spears for such prey at least.”

You relaxed a little. It looked like Odin wasn’t going to ride your sjelevenn into too much danger. There was still a challenge with deer or boar, but not the risk of hunting something larger, or aggressive. “Alright. Let’s start with the first year accolades. Languages and numbers?”

Magret nodded and led the way.

***

Bucky looked up at the “temple” and frowned. Whenever he’d thought of temples, he’d always imagined they’d look relatively similar to houses of worship he was familiar with. The Catholic ones of his age with their beautiful stonework, colourful windows, and soaring archways, or ones like the Mosques he’d come across in his travels with their domes and spires. Or even the ancient temples of Greece, where the stone columns held up the towering roofs. He’d never expected to come across one that looked like this.

It was tall, certainly, the roof rising well above that of the castle he’d walked away from, but not quite reaching the lofty stature of Valhalla. Stone stairs led up to a tall, narrow doorway, with a statute of Freya - from Steve’s description of her, it could only be Freya - with a stately pegasus. But it was the building which captured his attention.

It appeared as if it had been built and then spears, hundreds, thousands of spears had grown out of the ground around its base. They rose up, a defensive barrier of all different heights, giving the building an almost prickly appearance. It was a bit like a porcupine except the quills all stood vertically, some crossing, and those that “grew” tall enough formed a peak like the top of a bonfire giving the place a pyramid shape.

The spearheads shone bronze, highly reflective. He imagined they were as sharp as they looked and wondered whose job it was to climb up there and sharpen them after wind and weather took their toll. Through it all, there wasn’t a window to be seen.

“Kitten,” Bucky murmured as they got closer. He didn’t like places without windows. They reminded him too much of the warehouse in Russia where he’d been kept in cryo.

She seemed to sense his nerves and took his hand. “It’s alright, sjelevenn. It’s not as foreboding as it seems from the outside. I promise.”

He believed her, his absolute trust a surprise to Bucky’s cynical old mind, but if his hand tightened a little, she didn’t complain. As they climbed the stairs, he noted the young girls, between eight and ten, scrubbing the steps with bucket and brush.

“Hm, them were the days,” he murmured.

“What?” Eira asked.

Bucky nodded toward the scrubbing children. “There were many a day I did the same for my ma. Scrub brush and bucket over the kitchen floor.”

She chuckled softly. “I’d never raised a hand in service until I began here. It was quite a surprise when I was an unprepared and pampered princess.”

“Yeah?” he grinned at her as they started up the stairs. “A little bit of a shock?”

She nodded. “When I was born, and they believed Sváfa had returned to our clan, I was trained in sword and shield from the time I could walk, but the Valkyrie way is not the Asgard way. It was almost a disservice for there was much I needed to unlearn.”

He could understand that. “There really is nothing like watching Y/N go full out. She and Heimdall went at each other a couple of times when she was learning how to use her senses. There is a grace that comes through. She moves with such speed she leaves no holes in her defences. But I would pay money to watch her and Okoye go a round.”

“She is the one you spoke of? The woman warrior of Wakanda?”

“Yeah. She leads the Dora Milaje and is the king of Wakanda’s personal guard.”

Eira looked up at the statue as they passed. “I too would like to see that.”

Bucky glanced at her. “Really?”

She smiled at him. “If this woman of Wakanda can so impress my sjelevenn, then she is a woman I wish to meet.”

“Dollface, you keep talkin’ sweet like that, and I’m gonna have to stop and kiss you.” Eira giggled, and a blush burned through her cheeks. “Yeah, that works too.”

Bucky stopped and dragged her around by the hand, pulled her firmly to his chest, and kissed her hard. With a little sigh, she melted into him, but when he tried to deepen the kiss, she nipped her teeth into his lower lip and pulled away as a spate of giggles erupted around them.

“See what you’ve done now?” she scolded through her smile. “You’ve given all the little ones romantic thoughts.”

He chuckled and smiled at the children giggling behind their hands. “Not my fault you’re adorable.”

Eira snorted and waved a dismissive hand as she turned and continued up the stairs. “Says the man who is handsome enough to make my knees wobble when he smiles at me.”

“I do?” Bucky grinned smugly.

She only rolled her eyes and headed for the narrow doorway where two Valkyrie stood at guard. They wore white, but he wasn’t sure if they’d been a pair waiting in the courtyard yesterday, or wore white now only because Y/N had kicked them all in the ass.

Their spears crossed before the door as he and Eira approached.

“Sister. You know no man may cross the threshold of Freya’s temple.”

Bucky stiffened, but Eira only smiled. “Nina. Toliva. You must have missed breakfast.”

“We will rotate from our night watch in another hour,” the one she called Toliva said.

“Then you were not made aware of my blessing. James, son of Barnes, Sváva’s guard and brother of her sjelevenn,” Eira smiled up at him, “is mine.”

Both women inhaled sharply, their eyes widening in surprise. Bucky tilted his head, showing off the mark that blazed blue against his skin.

“It’s been a thousand years,” Nina whispered.

Eira nodded. “You can see why I am anxious to see the High Priestess and seal our scroll.”

The spears cleared the doorway with a snap. “Of course! Freya smiles on you, sister.” Nina and Toliva said together.

Eira made to walk inside when they pushed the doors open only to pause. “On your watch last eve, did you see anything… odd?”

“Odd?” They frowned.

“Someone about who should not have been.”

Bucky watched them exchange a glance and grew concerned. Toliva bit her lip, and he huffed an angry sound. “Someone left a blood curse for your queen. If you saw something, spit it out!”

They both paled to cream and tightened the grip on their spears. “A spectre. A figure in white. We thought she might be a priestess out for a walk, but she was there and then gone. It was…” Toliva looked at Nina.

“Unsettling.” The other woman shuddered.

“You didn’t investigate?” he barked.

Both shot him a glare and looked down their noses at him. “It is our place to guard this door. That is our duty. It is not our place to investigate,” Toliva snapped.

“And with Sváfa’s talk of the _Sjeletyv_ she found on Midgard, we are all a little… spooked,” Nina admitted.

“Thank you, sisters,” Eira said before Bucky lost his temper. “You do your duty with honour.”

“Sister.” Both nodded and dismissed him by turning away.

Eira tugged him through the door. “Rude,” he grumbled. “They treat me like I’m inferior.”

“They treat all men as such. It is a lesson taught us through our prowess and commitment. When we can look at those men who grace the Hall of Valhalla and know none of them will ever best us, it fills one's head with lofty thoughts.” Then she smiled at him. “But they have not seen such men as you and Steve. You quite put most men to shame.”

He smirked at her. “What about your “gods”?”

She shrugged. “Gods are gods. One cannot compare the likes of Thor or Odin to that of a man.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t dispute it. Thor was impressive, he had to admit. Even Loki had his moments. When he wasn’t being a total shit. The Trickster God was skulking around here somewhere. Bucky could practically smell him.

He pushed that thought aside as he looked around. What he’d feared would be a dark, cavernous opening, was anything but. Not unlike Asgard, gold fairly dripped from the ceilings and walls. Large gold chandeliers like the gnarled branches of a great tree hung from giant hooks and spanned the hall. The floors were white stone, the walls the same. Frescos of herds of carved pegasi flew along those walls. They were incredible for each vein of each feather in their otherwise white wings were made of gold.

There were lintels of amber at each doorway leading away into more hallways of white stone. The second-floor balcony looked like dripping honey with the reddy gold colour of the amber railing. It amazed him in both its enormity and its opulence.

“Holy… shit,” Bucky murmured.

“Not what you expected?” Eira snickered.

He shook his head. “No wonder the outside looks like a pointy fortress. It needs the protection." 

She chuckled and led him deeper into the temple. An enormous fire in a copper bowl burned in front of an image of Freya, the goddess stunning in her rendition, before a rampant pegasus. At her feet lay weapons and jewels, around her shoulders hung a cloak of amber-red hawk feathers, and her golden blonde hair fell in twists and coils to her feet. “Damn.”

“She is beauty personified in a Goddess,” Eira agreed. “I want to ask Sváfa if she was as beautiful in person as she is in this likeness, but I am afraid she will say no, and my vision of her will be… tainted.”

“From the way Steve described her, I’d say that’s pretty damn close, though he said her eyes were like oceans. The colour would shift and swirl.”

Eira sighed and smiled. “I wish I could meet her.”

“Maybe one day you will,” Bucky said, curling his arm around her waist. “You never know.” He didn’t tell her about Steve’s offer to see if Strange could assist in the hunt for Freyja sjelevenn, not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up.

The sound of shoes and the soft glide of fabric over the stone floors had Bucky looking toward the door at the right of the image. It hung dead center of the temple, allowing for entries to either side, but the sound came from the right.

From within walked the woman, Willa, in her headdress of horns and feathers. “Eira, child of Freya, maiden Valkyrie. Welcome.”

Robes of gold and black swept around her in what Bucky imagined was meant to be enchanting swirls, but such dramatics never impressed him.

“High Priestess.” Eira bowed to her; Bucky didn’t. “Freyja has granted me the blessing of a sjelevenn.”

Shock rippled through her and the group of white-clad women behind her. All were draped in gowns he assumed were meant to imply importance and reverence, but did little impart either to him. He was far too focused on the one called Kerse.

She appeared as surprised as the others, but he’d had damn near a century to learn to read people. He knew their ticks, their habits, their tells. People were people, and all had the same micro expressions - a term he’d learned from Sam - and the people of Asgard were no different.

Rage, defiance, and hatred all flashed across her face in those few short seconds before she was excitedly whispering along with the others. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t prove anything. Still, the longer he was in the room with her, the more the Soldier wanted to stick a knife in her heart.

Willa’s open mouth shut with a click before a genuine and happy smile spread her lips. “Eira! How wonderful!”

Eira blushed. “Thank you, High Priestess. The Queen bids me seal the scroll without delay.”

“Of course!” She turned to the women with her. “Kerse, make the room ready. Everyone will assist you.” They scurried off like little white mice. “You and your sjelevenn must leave your weapons here.”

Bucky’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword. “I don’t think so.”

“Bucky,” Eira murmured soothingly. “They will be safe here. This is Freyja’s altar. Anything left here is guarded by magic. We can leave them here without fear.” She stripped her sword belt from her waist, wrapped it around the scabbard and laid it on the steps before the fire bowl. “The fire burns with the Eternal Flame, protected here and in the vault in Asgard. It is the fire used in ceremony and to open the doors of Valhalla, calling Baldi and Balik and Ekheart to guard the way.” She pulled daggers from her boots, thighs, lower back, arm guards, and reached over her head to draw three from behind her nape.

“Damn,” he snickered and began divesting himself of his own arsenal. “We really are made for each other.”

“Of course. Freyja and the Norns make no mistakes.”

He glanced at Willa but said nothing about what a mistake it was to give Gunborg a sjelevenn. Once his pile of blades rested beside Eira’s, except for one hidden at his waist, they followed Willa down the hall.

Here the building was less pretentious, more subdued. The walls were still white stone, the lintels still amber, but gold came only in the form of modest chandeliers. Here too, doors of dense wood with strange carvings closed them out of what lay beyond them. It seemed the Temple was as secretive as the Valkyrjur.

After a short, silent, walk they arrived at a door which stood open and followed Willa inside. 

Bucky inhaled a sharp breath and stared up at the roof. “Holy crap!”

Willa chuckled softly. “It is a wonder, certainly. This is the very center of the temple, a place of high protection. It holds the greatest treasures of the Valkyrie.”

The circular room rose to a grand height, five stories minimum if Bucky had to guess. A dome of glass covered the room, and through it, he could make out the tips of the many spears which protected the temple’s peak. They glowed with the sunlight, casting light beams across the black floors. Slick and shiny like obsidian, they were veined in gold, running outward like rays of the sun from the center medallion. Runes and markings Bucky didn’t know or understand covered the thing, running in concentric circles.

In the center stood a wooden stand upon which a knife, a bowl, four small golden pyramids, a quill, and a piece of parchment waited, while around the room, against the walls of doors and drawers - reminding him strongly of a circular bank vault - stood the women in white, Willa’s priestesses.

The door shut behind, making him stiffen when he realized the one called Kerse was at his back, but Eira reached out and took his hand, her eyes so full of excitement he forced himself to relax for her sake. This was important to her, vital to their journey from what he understood both from talking to Steve and seeing Y/N’s scroll, but he still didn’t quite get how it worked.

“So… we just… write our names or what?” he muttered.

“It is a little more complex than that,” Willa chuckled. She walked into the circle of gold and around the far side of the stand where she stopped and beckoned them to join her. “You have bound yourselves together through the gifts of Valkyrie magic, ones gained when one of us finishes our training. Now, we will use your blood and the magic of the Sjelevenn Scrolls, given to us by Freyja, to follow your souls through time.”

“If you’ve got these scrolls all the time, can someone just… make a bond up?” he asked.

Willa nodded toward the wall where two girls stood. “That door is where the parchment rests. It will only open when a new bond is presented before Freya’s altar as yours was today.”

“And where are the scrolls kept once this is finished?”

“Bucky!” Eira hissed softly.

He arched a brow at her scolding. “Kitten, I’ve seen Sváfa’s scroll. It wound up on Earth in the hands of our enemies. If we’re doing this? I’m making damn sure ours doesn’t disappear in the same way.”

“Be at ease, sister. Your man has a right to his concern. Look, here are the scrolls and what was thought to be Sváfa’s.” Willa led them to the back of the room where a dozen rolled up and bound with ribbon scrolls sat within a glass case. “They are sealed with magic inside the case, and we have yet to learn how Sváfa's was replaced. When a Valkyrie becomes a maiden, she is brought here and presented to the case. If she is a soul returned, her scroll with resonate, glow gold in her presence. Then through magic and ways _you_ need not know, she has her memories returned to her.”

Bucky nodded slowly before asking, “Which one is Sváfa’s?”

“As it was a false scroll, we have removed it. Will her scroll be returned to us?”

He shrugged at Willa’s question. As far as he knew, Loki had it. It, like Garry, had disappeared at roughly the same time. “Not my place to say.”

Willa nodded and shooed them back toward the stand where they took their places across from her as she lifted her hands and looked toward the ceiling. “Great Goddess Freyja! Today a new sjelevenn bond shall be solidified thanks to your blessing and that of the Norns!”

The hair on the back of Bucky’s neck began to lift as the itch, the precursor to something bad about to happen, began to crawl up his spine. He shot a glance around the room, then shifted as if to face Eira, but it allowed him to see Kerse by the door. She hadn’t moved. Nothing about her had changed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling something was about to go very, very wrong.

“Here in the Hall of Treasures, I submit these two, Eira, your child, and James, son of Barnes, into the Record of Sjelevenn. Eira, pick up the knife and add your life’s blood to the bowl.” Without hesitation, she did so, slicing open her palm and letting her blood drip into the bowl. “James, repeat the action.”

Eira held out the knife, and he took it from her, watching Kerse from the corner of his eye. She still hadn’t moved, nothing had changed, but the itch was growing stronger. He pulled the glove from his right hand, sliced open his palm, and added his blood to the bowl. Willa handed them each a length of cloth to bind the wounds before wiping the dagger on a third. 

Having seen what Loki could do with blood magic, Bucky held out his hand. “I’ll take that.”

Willa looked surprised but handed the cloth over willingly. “As you wish.” She unrolled the parchment scroll and placed small gold pyramids - paperweights, Bucky realized - at the corners. “Eira, this scroll will now follow you through all your lives until the Norns deem your time and your purpose in this world complete. Sign your name, that of your first life, the name you bore before becoming a Valkyrie, so all shall be remembered. Every name from every soft life will appear afterward without assistance until you return to us, a Valkyrie once more, and can sign it yourself again.”

Eira lifted the quill, the excited beating of her heart clear in his ears and made to dip it in their mixed blood. The feeling of _wrong_ was growing bigger, souring his stomach, but he couldn’t figure out why. Then, he caught the small, smug smile curl Kerse’s lips. Something really wasn't right.

Bucky’s hand shot out, and he jerked the quill away before it hit the blood. “Something’s wrong.”

“Bucky?” Eira sounded hurt.

“It’s not you, Kitten. Something about his whole thing is wrong.” He looked down at the parchment, hoping for an answer to remove the look of devastation from her face, and frowned. “Wait… that’s not right.”

“You are interrupting a sacred ceremony!” Willa snapped.

Bucky didn’t even hesitate when the Soldier scraped at him to be let out. “ _Zakroy svoy rot, zhenshchina!_ ” he snarled at her and winced internally. He’d never been overly diplomatic as Winter and such was proving true again when he told her to shut her mouth in biting Russian.

The women around the room gasped, Willa stepped back in fear, but it was Eira he looked to. Eira who stared at him in shocked amazement, then moved forward, not away. “Winter…” she whispered and reached for his face.

 _“Vy ne boites' menya, kotenok?_ ”

She shook her head as her hands landed gently against his jaw. “I will admit I’m a little rusty on my Midgardian languages, but no. No, I won’t ever fear you. You’re mine, just as James is mine. Two parts together that make one man. What’s wrong? What did you see?”

He sighed and lost some of his stiffness, allowing his head to lower and his forehead to rest against hers. “Eira…” Bucky whispered.

“Shh. Show me, James.” She brushed her lips over his tenderly.

“The seal, all those tiny marks? They’re different than Sváfa’s.” The heart of the woman near the door kicked hard and jumped into a rapid beat.

“You are mistaken.”

He glared at Willa. “I’m not.”

“The scrolls are kept by Freyja herself! They are tamper proof!” she insisted.

Bucky curled his lip in an angry snarl. “There’s one way to know for sure.” Before anyone could ask, he tipped his head back, inhaled hard, and bellowed, “LOKI!”

 


	23. Chapter 23

* * *

You were in the middle of listening to the first group of accolades converse in a multitude of languages when the heat exploded up your spine. The children were each assigned a language to speak, though they held the conversation jointly, discussing the history of The Valkyrie. You’d been quietly translating for Sif, noting when a child faltered or made a mistake when the blow set you rocking on your toes, surprise radiating with the blooming warmth.

“Steve,” whispered from your lips.

“Queen Sváfa?” Sif murmured.

You clapped your hands to draw the attention of the girls. “Well done. I’m impressed. Rihn is a credit as your teacher.” You nodded to the Valkyrie smiling at her charges. “I think we can take a short break before we move on, yes?” The girls squealed excitedly and dashed from the room. They may be Valkyrie in training, but they were still children and running around outside for twenty minutes would release some of their excess energy.

Rihn bowed, her fist to her heart as she left the room to oversee the children.

“Your majesty?” Ama asked as all the women turned toward you.

“It’s Steve…” You pressed your hand to your heart. “Something’s wrong.” His beat hard in your chest, the emotion of the connection flickering and writhing. “He’s in a battle.”

“My queen, forgive me, but how can you be sure?” Oda asked.

Telling anyone about the blood magic was out of the question, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t improvise. “The bond with my sjelevenn this life is different. It is stronger. There is an emotional component I’ve never had before. His heart beats with mine. Freyja thought it had to do with him being… enhanced for a human. But I can feel… danger. This is no simple boar or stag. Frey,” you looked to the woman standing nearest the door. “Send a wing. Find the hunt.”

“Yes, my queen!” She repeated Rihn’s action and ran out the door, her voice carrying as she called riders to assemble.

“Wouldn’t you rather go yourself, my queen?” Brynhildr murmured.

You shook your head. “Though my heart screams, I trust Odin will see him safe. My duty is here. Sending a wing is all I can do.” You took a deep breath. Panic on your end would only distract Steve from whatever was happening on his. Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, it ended. His heart slowed, the tension relaxed, and he was at ease again albeit slightly confused. “It’s alright. It’s over.”

“It must not have been that dangerous. Perhaps they ran down a boar. They can be fierce,” Sif offered.

“Maybe,” you sighed. “We’ll let the wing find them.”

“I think you should sit, my queen. You’re looking a little… wan.”

You frowned at Magret. “I’m fine.”  Truthfully you were tired. Lack of sleep, a night spent heaving your guts out, and dealing with the agony of Loki’s damn potion hadn’t done you any favours, and you grumbled, “I miss coffee.”

“Thor likes that brew. I think it is vile though the smell is nice.”

You chuckled and grinned at Sif. “Next time you come to Midgard, remind me to introduce you to a Caramel Macchiato.”

She looked intrigued, but Frey returned at a quick jog before Sif could say any more. “They’re away.”

“Excellent.” You’d have your answer soon enough. “Let’s call the girls back in. We’ll spend another half hour with them, then move on to the second level accolades.”

Jesslyn leaned out the window and let loose a piercing whistle. It made you and all the others chuckle when a chorus of disappointed _ahhs_ could be heard in response.

***

Steve packed his shield on his arm for a while. It just felt safer that way even if Odin eyed him with amusement. Having yanked it out of the tree on the way by, he could have easily returned it to his back, but after the incident with the cat, he wasn’t feeling as comfortable in the forest of Asgard as he had been.

He also didn’t like the fact that the deer had been slaughtered to attract the creature. “Your men going to be alright? That deer carcass isn’t going to call another of those things to them is it?”

“No.”

“Where are we going?”

“You will see.”

Not a talker apparently. Steve settled in to quietly enjoy the ride. It hadn’t been something he’d been too keen on doing in the beginning. The horses were skittish, and he was a city kid at heart, but with time, he’d gotten used to them. They had senses even more acute than his own, and when one of them grew nervous, Steve had learned to stop and take a moment to figure out why.

Baldor was clearly more intelligent than any of the horses Steve remembered, happy to move along at Sleipnir’s pace. He didn’t flinch or startle when birds or small animals darted away from his feet, giving Steve the opportunity to relax and watch the forest go by.

Every so often, he’d catch a glimpse of brown hide as deer smaller than the stag they’d tracked darted away. He even managed to find the creature Y/N had called a slark. It was a strange but beautiful world. So much was the same as the forests of home. Large evergreens towered above him, stately oak and maple trees spread the limbs wide. Mushrooms grew in the damp places and flowers bloomed among rocky terrain where the trees thinned enough to allow the sunlight to beat down and warm the earth.

There were streams, some wide flowing rivers, others nothing but trickles over stones. The leaves were changing. Vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds covered the damp ground, silencing the horse's hooves.

“I’m impressed.” Odin’s voice pulled Steve out of his enjoyment of the world around him. “Hurgid couldn’t go thirty paces without breaking the silence. You have made thirty minutes.”

Steve shrugged. “You seemed disinclined to conversation. The land is beautiful. I was enjoying it and the ride.”

“Indeed.” He motioned with the spear toward the break in the trees ahead. “There is a good vantage point to see much of the valley.”

Intrigued, Steve rode up through the trees and slowed Baldor to a stop at the cliff’s edge. “Wow.” He could see all of the valley and the forest that surrounded it. Many of the buildings for the Valkyrjur were laid out in the distance, allowing one to catch of glimpse of the mighty Valhalla.

“Come. We are close.” Odin turned Sleipnir away.

“To what?”

“You will see.”

Steve rolled his eyes but followed dutifully along. He could see why Odin often exasperated Thor. But as they moved from the ridge down into the forest and out into a tract of open land, Steve frowned. “Wait… I know this place.”

He gave Baldor a small kick and sent the gelding trotting down the expanse of green. “This is Sváfaland isn’t it? The crypt Freyja brought me to is up there.” The edge of the clearing where Kriger landed was just visible through the trees to his right, up a much steeper section of forest and mountain.

“And Castle Ulvvakt is there.” Odin nodded across the way at the crumbling castle sitting on a mountain crag a good thirty feet up.

“Holy…” Steve muttered. “It didn’t look that big from the back of a pegasus.”

“Castle Ulvvakt is meant to supply and protect the Valkyrjur. Its size and strength are important.”

Steve frown and looked up at Odin on his tall horse. “Why? They’re Valkyrie. Aren’t they the elite of the world?”

“Even the elite of the world begin as young ones in need of protection. If a time came when the Valkyrjur emptied like it did during the war with the _Sjeletyv,_ the ones left behind are vulnerable, which makes Valhalla vulnerable. The Ulvvakt then became the next line of defence.”

Ulvvakt meant Wolf Guard. His sigel made more sense now. “Look, I get that this was important. This place. These people. But I have-”

“Obligations. So you have said. Still, the keep is yours, and to you, it will be returned.”

Odin urged Sleipnir toward the narrow, winding, crumbling road at its base. It weaved back and forth in hairpin turns and switchbacks, the path wide enough to fit a wagon but not much more. Steve returned the shield to his back. The fortifications impressed him. The road itself would make it damn near impossible to get up to the walls without being seen, and as they rode higher, it became clear the castle itself had been carved out of a spire of stone.

It reminded him of pictures he’d seen of Monument Valley where the massive spires of rock gave one the impression of castles. This, however, must have taken centuries to build, carve, scrape into existence.

“Damn,” Steve muttered. “It’s a floating fortress.”

“It is. I had the greatest architect in Asgard build it for Hurgid.”

“You had this built!” Steve stared up at him in surprise.

Odin nodded slowly. “Hurgid was not just another loyal subject. He was… my friend. He came to fill the void left by my brothers. You cannot know the feeling of betrayal that comes when one you love turns on you.”

“Can’t I?” Steve asked. “I watched my best friend die right in front of me only to find out seventy years later he hadn’t. Instead, they turned him into an assassin bent on killing me. I think I understand better than most.”

“Perhaps you do. But while you had the brother you’d lost returned to you, I was forced to kill mine. There was no reconciling that bond. Hurgid in his honest integrity became to me what I had lost. I man I _chose_ to consider kin. The ring you wear was another item I had created to show him honour. His choice to sacrifice his life rather than continue on to Valhalla where we could remain forever in friendship… pained me.”

Steve could see that. “People say he was rather amazing.”

Odin scoffed a laugh. “Stubborn, strong, and rash. But without him, I would have died and the history you know today might have been very different.” Sleipnir came to a stop at a wide section of washed out road.

“Now what?” Steve murmured. “Go on foot? I could jump…” His voice trailed off when the eight-legged steed stepped out on air and continued on as if he weren’t walking through open space. Then without hesitation, Baldor followed, making Steve incredibly uncomfortable when there was nothing beneath them but wide open air. “Do I dare ask?”

“Hm.” Odin shrugged.

They continued onward, climbing steadily up the side of the sheer crag wall. Finally, at what appeared the last loop, Steve stared up in awe at the castle. It was even more impressive than he’d thought. “Incredible.”

Gates of wood as thick as his thigh was long were banded in steel, but swung open with a nudge from Odin’s spear without sound, appearing light as a feather. They rode into the courtyard beneath the portcullis, and Steve realized just how impenetrable this place would have been at the height of its day. The exterior walls were as thick as his horse was long. From nose to rump, they fit between the outside and inside of the gate.

Stone stairs and walkways rose to the height of the battlements, four watchtowers guarded the corners, while the castle itself sat proudly overlooking the valley. Or so Steve imagined not being able to see past the seven-story giant before him. Against the walls of the much larger courtyard then he’d expected stood wooden structures clearly once meant to be barns and barracks and other storage facilities. It was incredibly impressive and would have been more so if not for the crumbling facade and roofs which had fallen in on most of the wooden buildings.

Odin swung down from Sleipnir’s back and patted the stallion’s neck. Following suit, Steve dismounted as well, keen to have a look around. It hadn’t settled in yet that Odin was giving him a castle. What the hell was he to do with a castle? Besides tease Tony about inheriting one of course.

“Come, Steven, heir to Hurgid.” Odin headed across the stones toward the wide stairs that led up to oak doors carved with the image of two howling wolves.

Steve followed, fascinated by the ground. What at first appeared to be giant slabs of slate were actually carved into the top of the mountain. It was all one solid piece, but groves like tile grout had been etched into the surface. So far he’d yet to see a crack where two pieces of stone fit together.

Once inside, Odin waved a hand, setting the torches along the wall alight, illuminating an entrance hall that dwarfed that of the Valkyrie. “Holy shit!” Wolf banners in sapphire blue and maroon hung from the ceiling alongside ones of white pegasi on fields of gold from thick wooden rafters. It was a good four stories, giving rise to columns and archways that rose to the second floor where balconies began and ran down either side. More twisting knots, howling wolves, and strange runes climbed toward the ceiling, wrapped around each of the two dozen pillars.

A few feet through the door, the stairs descended in a half moon into a hall were row upon row of tables waited, empty of food and collecting dust, and at the far end beneath a banner identical to the image on Bucky’s armour, stood a high table set a tier above the rest. The chairs behind it were all too familiar.  

“It’s the same. The same as what I saw in the crypt.”

Odin chuckled. “We Asgardians like our traditions. But now, Steven, son of Hurgid, I return to you your ancestral home.” He raised the spear over his head and brought the butt of it down with a loud crack upon the stone floor.

An explosion of air blew past him, causing Steve to brace against it and cover his face, but when it dissipated, he looked up and could only stare. Everything that had been rundown and dusty, all the tattered edges of the banners, the crumbling stone and broken benches were like new. Fire burned in the enormous hearth behind the head table; more glowed cheerily in the iron baskets hanging from hooks extended from the edges of the balconies.

What had been dark, drab, and rundown was suddenly bright and cheerful. Welcoming. Steve could imagine sitting up there with Y/N and his family. He could see it. He could see children. Bucky and Eira. A host of women in white armour as well as men like the two he’d met on the hunt. He could see a life here for them and turned away to look out the door, rubbing a hand over his mouth when acid rolled in his stomach.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked the elder God staring at him expectantly.

“To show you the truth you deny yourself.”

Steve clenched a fist, contemplated throwing it before deciding against it. “You don’t get it.”

“I do. It is you who refuse to see the truth. Are you not tired of battle? Bloodshed? Do you not long for a life of a different kind of excitement?” Odin shifted closer and set his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You have carried the burden Midgard long enough. Asgard offers respite. A future where all you see is yours. Where you can decide on something besides which friends you will potentially send to their death.”

He ground his teeth together and pulled away. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t _send_ people to their death. I go with them. That is how it works. I don’t ask anyone to do something I wouldn’t. If they step out on a battlefield, so will I.”

Anger rippled with Odin’s clenching jaw. “Foolish mortal! You risk everything every time you do. Think you I don’t know exactly my son did to save Sváfa the minute she returned to Asgard? How he tied you together with blood magic!”

“And what?” Steve snapped. “You think coming here, sitting on my ass, and growing fat will keep her safe? You think she’d let me? She'd kick my ass from here to Asgard if she knew I retired to protect her! And she would know.”

“You have people here who need you.”

“And I have people there who need me.” Steve held up his hand before Odin could say anything. “I’ll do what I can while I’m here. I’ve already agreed to meet with the leader of the village.”

“You did?” Odin looked surprised.

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “You think I could come here, hear all this, see all this, and _not_ want to help? Unlike this keep, I’m not made of stone.”

A small smile curled Odin’s lips. “Excellent. That’s all I ask. Come.” He headed down the stairs into the keep. “There is something to show you.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a pain in the ass?” Steve grumbled.

Odin stopped, and a genuine smile appeared on his lips. “Yes. Two people. Frigga and Hurgid.”

“Of course he did,” Steve smirked and followed the eccentric old man.

***

Loki walked the halls of Freya’s temple cloaked in invisibility. Once she would have taken exception to him being her, and he wondered if that was why his spell had failed the last time, but for all her flaws, Freyja had never been cruel to him. With time and thought, Loki had come to believe a second spell of protection had been placed on a specific portion of Freyja’s temple.

As he made his way down to the area, Loki slowed, his hand out, seeking the tricky little trap. Something nasty licked his palm, and he stopped. “How very bad of you,” he murmured. “But thank you for revealing yourself.” The same person who’d set this spell had tried to kill Sváfa, and while they were skilled, they were no master _seiðr_ user.

He flicked his fingers, and the secondary spell fizzled. “Now, what are you hiding.” Loki moved along the wall, his hand raised, checking for more magic. When he found it, he smiled. “That is very tricky.” A second flick of fingers opened the door.

He made his way down into the underground of the temple, a place he hadn’t known existed. Interesting, as he knew all the secret areas of Asgard. Or so he’d thought.

The tunnel twisted around until it ended in a cavern where a pallet of furs was laid. Upon it sat a very familiar face. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Garry sat up with a jolt and looked around. “NO!”

Loki flicked his fingers and revealed himself as he glided across the floor. “Oh, yes. Did you miss me? I missed you. We have some unfinished business you and I.”

He scurried back into the wall. “Please, please, no! Please. I’ll tell you whatever you want. I’ll tell you what I overheard. I’ll give them up!”

“You will do that anyway, _Garry_.” Loki reached down to pick him up only to growl in irritation. “It appears you have a momentary reprieve. “Do not go anywhere.” He snapped his fingers and knocked the man out.

Another flick of the wrist and he arrived in the center of Freyja’s temple with a grunt, the magic of the room taking exception to his arrival. “Sergeant Barnes, if people insist on bellowing my name to get my attention I am going to start charging a fee for services rendered.”

“Now isn’t the time to be an ass,” Barnes grumbled. “Look at this. Tell me what’s wrong with it.”

He pointed at the scroll upon the table. “You will need to bring it to me. Aunt Freyja is only so willing to allow me admittance to her holiest of holy places.”

Barnes arched a brow, but picked the scroll up and returned with it to the edge of the golden medallion. “This, this seal. It doesn’t look right compared to Y/N’s.”

“What would you know of-” Loki plucked it from his fingers. “What… what is this?” Smacking his palm to the seal, he drew it out of the paper and blew the runes up to see them better. “What… but that… that would…” He crushed the paper in his fist. “Who touched this?” Loki asked as he looked at Willa. “Was it you?”

“No,” Bucky said. “It was her.”

Loki turned to see the woman nearest the door wrench it open and flee. “I think not.” He flicked his fingers only for nothing to happen. “Dammit, Aunt! Barnes! Get her. Eira, the bowl with your blood, bring it to me. It must not be left where anyone can use it.”

***

Bucky was already running when Loki’s magic failed. “Kerse!” She was running down the hall, dress flapping behind her. He stormed down the hall after her. “ _Kerse_!”

“I didn’t do anything!” she cried.

Bucky caught her halfway down the hall and swung her into the wall. “You were the one Willa sent to ready the room, and I saw you. I saw you gloating when you thought we’d sign that scroll.”

“Liar!”

“No, lady. What I am is an assassin,” he growled.

The sweet innocent act went out the window. “What you’ve done is destroy everything.” Her fist connected with his cheek and rocked Bucky back.

He chuckled and wiped the blood from his lip. “Sweetheart, you just made my day.”

She lunged, her foot flashing out to connect with his knee. Bucky twisted to the left and punched her in the stomach. She doubled over and cried out, but quickly retaliated and landed a punch that caught the scar tissue along his shoulder.

Bucky screamed as pain seared through him and reeled back into the opposite wall.

“Hurts don’t it?” she sneered.

“The fuck? How did you…?”

“I know all about you, Sergeant. Hydra did a number on you.”

A fist lashed out and punched her in the head. “I never like you.” Eira growled.

“Nice shot, kitten,” Bucky snickered. He shoved off the wall and rolled his shoulder. “Try that again, bitch.”

Kerse shrieked and lunged. He didn’t even hesitate to punch her square in the face with his left hand. She went down like a rock and didn’t get back up.

“I think I broke her nose.”

Eira crouched down and poked it. “And part of a cheekbone. Impressive.”

“Good thing I pulled that punch. I might have killed her, and I’d really like to know how she knew about me, my arm, and Hydra.”

“She knew of your arm?” Eira hissed, then glared down at Kerse. “Now I wish I’d punched her harder.”

“If you two are through,” Loki said striding out of the room packing the bowl, “I will watch her. You need to get Sváfa. There is something she must see.” The bowl in his hand began to burn with green flame. "And next time someone wants to perform blood magic, have someone in the room who actually knows what they are doing."

Bucky nodded and tossed the rag he'd requested in the bowl. "Thanks."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Go. Save your thanks for when this mess is sorted."

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Language and angst
> 
> Song: Castle by Halsey

* * *

Steve followed Odin further into the keep and down a winding set of stairs. They went deep, silence closing in and the air growing thick and cool. The castle may have been seven stories tall, but it was clear it went down aways too.

Finally, they came to a stop at a large stone door covered in carved runes. “Your ring.” Odin held out his hand.

Steve pulled it from his finger and handed it over. Odin took it and placed it in a small opening hard to see amongst the curls and squiggles of the door. It sank in with a little click, and suddenly the door was swinging inward in silence.

The former ruler of Asgard lifted down a torch and used it to lead the way while handing Steve back his ring. “This keep has sat empty for many years, but I have always hoped Hurgid’s heir would return to us, so while I let it appear to fall apart, I also protected many of its treasures.”

“So the washed out road?”

“An illusion learned from Loki. When I returned the rest of the keep, that too reappeared.”

Steve nodded, following the man as he walked into the cavernous room. His feet stopped as Steve took in the place. “Holy… crap.” To say it was a treasure room would have been an understatement. Chest of gold and precious metals sat beside walls of weapons, more golden statues, and piles of coins. Everything gleamed and shone in the shifting firelight. “Where did it all come from?”

Odin wandered inside and dug his hand into one chest, letting gold coins trickle through his fingers. “Hurgid was a wise man. He amassed a fortune he put aside for his heirs. Not even their frivolities could do more than dent what he’d left them. He requested I create this vault for the vast majority of his wealth, and see his ring was retained until his one true heir appeared.”

“The guy thought of everything, didn’t he?” Steve muttered, finding the excessive wealth uncomfortable. “What the hell am I to do with all this?”

“Live.” Odin let the last of the coins fall. “The village is in need of repair. The castle will need staff to look after it. Men will need to be trained and paid wages. Such is the life of a king. The two I brought on the hunt are good men. I have watched them grow from young boys. There is honour in them. They would make fine stewards for when you were away. One to run the keep. One to oversee the land.”

“Balus and Gar, sons of Tarin. He gonna be alright?”

“Balus? He is a son of Asgard. It will take more than a bite from an overgrown feline to keep him down.”

Steve walked deeper into the vault where a chest sat on a raised pedestal. “What’s this?”

“What is a king without a crown?”

“Seriously!” Steve barked and lifted the lid. Inside were two simple beaten bands of gold. One had the snarling face of a wolf at the center of the two-inch band, the rest worked with knots and twists, while the second was thinner and set with a single sapphire. “My life has become a fairy tale,” Steve mumbled.

Odin chuckled and patted his shoulder. “You will get used to it.”

Steve closed the lid, crossed his arms, and sighed. “What’s really going on here? Why are you pushing? And no more bullshit answers. What’s happening in Sváfaland that’s got you shoving all this down my throat?”

Odin nodded slowly and turned toward the door. “Come. I will show you.”

He led them out of the vault, the door closing without assistance behind them, and up the stairs to the main level of the castle. Then it was down another hall and up flight after flight of stairs in what had to be the tallest tower. By the time they reached the top, Odin was breathing hard, and Steve’s legs had started to burn.

Least he’d get in a decent workout if he ran the stairs a few times.

At the top of the tower, Odin opened a plain wooden door into a room surrounded by windows. “Sváfaland was once the most prosperous of my lands. Hurgid and his kin had the honour of guarding the way to the Valkyrjur and Valhalla, but when they fell to greed and murder… it cursed this land as surely as someone has cursed your queen.”

Steve walked across the room to lean on the stone windowsill and look out at the land. They were a hell of a long way up, and he could clearly see the valley of the Valkyrie. Between the castle and the Valkyrjur off to the left between swaths of forest lay what appeared a quaint village. But then he looked closer.

There was once village to either side of the road, but now the forest had taken back what had once been there. What fields were planted appeared ready for harvest, but it didn’t look good. “I thought all people of Asgard prospered?”

“All those who have people to speak for them. But Sváfaland has been without a ruler for eight generations. That is a long time to have no voice.”

“And these sons of Tarin? They sure didn’t look like they lived in the village.”

“They do not. They live in Asgard but have an estate to the south.” Odin went to another window. “There. The keep on the southern border.”

Steve joined him and looked down the long way to another castle, the size hard to distinguish, sitting on a hill at the base of the southernmost mountain.

“The sons of Maji hold your Easter border, there.” Odin pointed, and Steve found the keep easily on the flat plain. “They long ago turned their eyes and hearts from Sváfaland. They swear their loyalty to Stengard. Another Lord among Thor’s court.”

“Only a lord? How many minor kings are there?”

“A few. But the three most important guard each of our borders. You guard the Western edge, the Valkyrjur and Valhalla. Then there is Calax Isisson who keeps watch over the Northern Lands and the White Sea of Ice. It is from them Sváfa came through the line of Berserkers.”

He motioned to the mountains, north and west of them where the snow thickly capped the peaks. If Eira came from the same people, then Calax must be her father.

“And Vigot Bjartmarsson holds our Eastern shores. Álfr, whom you fought in the Holmgang as Helgi, was part of that clan.”

Steve frowned. “I see. What was that about anyway?”

“Helgi killed Álfr’s father in battle.”

“What? Why!” Weren’t they all ruled under Asgard? Why would one kingdom be in a battle with the other?

“There was a time of uprising. Hróðmar wanted the honour of guarding the Western lands for himself. I was away from Asgard dealing with a threat to Vanaheim. Hróðmar timed his assault well. You and your men rode out to meet them and won, but Álfr called the Holmgang demanding satisfaction before I could return and put a stop to it. When I found out what had occurred, that you had been poisoned and Sváfa had perished, I was angry. Vigot is descended from a distant cousin of Álfr, for Álfr did not long survive his father.”

Speaking of that time set a thought jumping in Steve’s brain, and he asked, “ Rettferdighet, how did it wind up with you? Álfr had it but returned it to Helgi’s brother in exchange for gold. Then Heðinn gave it the Valkyrie and priestess for their curse.”

“I found it in a pile of scrap waiting to be melted down. I knew that blade as I was there when it was forged. It was a blade meant for a hero.”

“A hero carries it still.”

“Indeed,” Odin agreed. “The Randulfr suits you better. It was meant for a man of great honour whose moral compass is unquestionable. The more you use it, the more of its secrets you will unlock.”

“Already found the truth aspect.”

“You wield it well. I was prepared to assist with the Smedlheim until you proved you needed no help.”

A smirk twitched Odin’s lips, one Steve echoed. “Guess we should take a ride through the village.”

“If that is your wish.”

Odin tilted his head, causing Steve to arch an amused brow. “I’m gonna need help with this. I know nothing about improving a village or running an entire… land.”

“Sváfa knows.”

Steve shook his head. “Y/N’s got her hands full.”

A new glint came to Odin’s eye. “I know just the person to assist you.”

“Who?” Steve asked, not trusting that glint.

“My son, Loki.”

***

You’d moved on to the older girls, those who were perhaps a year away from becoming maidens and leaving their novate blue robes behind. There were only twenty in the class allowing you to focus on each individually. Unfortunately, you weren’t impressed with the quality of their instructors.

Both were part of Gunborg’s crew, and it showed. They skirted the edge of disrespect, and their poisonous presence had leached into the minds of the young Valkyrie. When you asked them to demonstrate their skills, they did so grudgingly until one young, beautiful, too glib mouth prompted Ama to act.

She put the girl on her ass so fast there wasn’t time to react before Ama’s short blade was pressed to the girl’s throat. “You dishonour yourself and your calling with every word from your too proud tongue!”

“Ama,” you murmured, motioning her off the girl. Striding to the front of the room, you stood with your arms crossed and glared them down. “You seem to think because you have made it this far in your training you have the right to speak to me as an equal. You do not. You are still novates. You have not proven your skills, nor have you proven to me that you deserve to be here and can do this job. We are the Elite of Asgard. If you cannot uphold that standard, collect your things and get out.”

The girl Ama chastised jumped to her feet. “You can’t do that! We’ve all worked to be here-”

You slashed your hand through the air. “Silence!” Her teeth came together with a click. “You know nothing of work. You are children playing at being Valkyrie !” you bellowed, causing them all to take a step back. “You would not survive the first wave of an enemy attack. You think this is fun? That what we do is a game? I assure you it is not!”

“If you turn me out I’ll see my Father hears-”

She never got a chance to finish when you charged across the room and backhanded her. “Shut your mouth!” The other girls all gasped in shock, but you only crouched to grab her by her braids and wrench her head back. “Let me make one thing clear to all of you. The moment you put on the blue robes of a novate you renounced your former life. Here you have no father. Seek to threaten me with such idiocy again, and I will see you stripped of your status and removed from this keep before you can ever claim your wings. This is not a democracy!” Fear filled the air around her and made you sigh. “What is your name?”

“Pallis, my queen,” she whispered.

“Pallis.” You stood and pulled her up with you. “This is not a democracy, it cannot, will not ever be one, but we are a company of women. Those who gain their wings and are blooded become sisters. You uphold the ideals of the Valkyrjur. That is how you gain respect. That is how you find your voice. You are a novate, Pallis, as are the rest of you. You must earn the right to speak your mind by showing me you have what it takes to be a Valkyrie. This class as a whole has not done so, and I am disappointed.”

Twenty heads bowed in defeat.

“But I cast the blame for that where it belongs.” You turned to face the two Valkyrie now standing nervously off to one side. “Tyr. Lore. You are no longer tasked with guiding the elder novates. You’ve failed in your duty.”

“Queen Sváfa!” they gasped in denial.

Again you slashed your hand through the air. “If you cannot put aside your personal agendas to properly mould the next generation of Valkyrie then I do not want you instructing them. See Eira tomorrow for your reassignments. Dismissed.”

They stormed out, anger written in every line of their bodies, but you paid them little mind when you turned back to the now nervous group of girls.

“The Valkyrjur is only as strong as its weakest Valkyrie. Therefore we must all strive to be better, push harder, fight longer. If you think me cruel now, you will understand why later. Standing shoulder to shoulder with your sisters in the thick of it, you will thank me for my harshness because you will know the very best of us stands to your right and your left. You will trust the shield wall to hold. You will have faith in their swords. And if you die, you will know with certainty you did your absolute best and Freyja welcomes you to the Norns with open arms.”

Pallis lowered to a knee at your feet. “Forgive me, my queen.”

You placed your hand on her head. “Forgiveness is easy, Pallis. My respect is much harder to earn. Do better.”

She nodded. “We will. I swear it. We all will.”

“Consider yourselves dismissed until afternoon training. You are to take nine others and find Terra. Assist her in organizing the young ones into manageable groups for each of our new staff to oversee. Tomorrow, the novates will clean Valkyrie rooms beneath their watchful eyes.”

“Yes, my queen.” Pallis stood, a bit of sparkle in her eye at being chosen for a task given by the queen. She picked nine swiftly and headed for the door.

“And Pallis,” you called out, causing the group to pause at the door. “You will treat Terra with the same respect you would give any Valkyrie. Understood?”

All ten girls pressed their fists to their hearts and offered half bows before leaving. The second half of the class bowed and went with your nod allowing you to sag and sit on the desk.

“My Queen!”

You waved off Oda and Brynhildr. “I’m fine. I dislike disciplining that way.”

“It was necessary,” Magret murmured. “She has always been an uppity thing. I think she respects you more for it.”

“Who’s her father?” you wondered.

“Stengard. Lord of the next land over,” Sif answered. “I remember her when she was young at court before she became a novate.”

“Hm. Well, here’s hoping she pulls her head out of her ass,” you sighed and closed your eyes, but when two sets of pounding feet raced down the hall, you rose quickly to yours and turned to face the door, your hand falling to your sword in concern. Those footfalls were familiar, and when Bucky bellowed your name, you called out, “Here!”

They skidded to a stop in the open doorway. “Kerse showed her hand. You've got to come to the temple. Loki found something.”

Three clipped sentences from Bucky was all it took to see you stiffening. “What do you mean, Kerse showed her hand?”

“She did something to our scroll. Loki’s pissed.” Bucky’s scowl was deep. “He says you need to see what he found.”

You crossed the room with long strides, Sif on your heels and the rest forming up once you cleared the doorway. “What happened? Are you two alright?”

Bucky nodded. “Fine. I had a feelin’ something was off. Turns out I was right. The priestess tampered with our scroll.”

“How?” He shrugged, and you growled. “Where is she?”

“Prince Loki is watching her. She fought my sjelevenn and I. It was a poor decision,” Eira smirked.

You pounded down the stairs out into the yard only to pull up sharp when the wing of nine landed a few feet away. The lead rider swung from her pegasus and jogged over. “My Queen.” Her fist went to her heart. “We found the hunt.”

“And? What news?” you asked, heart thick in your throat with her hesitation.

“The All-Father’s servant's bid us bring you this.” She turned toward two more Valkyrie who’d dismounted to remove a bulky item from the rump of a fourth pegasus. They cut bindings and came forward to give the pelt a flick and unroll it on the grass.

You grabbed for Bucky’s arm as, “Smedlheim,” whispered from your lips.

“The fuck is that!” Bucky barked, staring at the enormous fur.

Eira was explaining, but you could only focus on the wing leader. “They fought a Smedlheim?”

“Yes, my queen,” she nodded. “But there is more. It seems the stag the hunt had been chasing was killed and left butchered, drawing in the cat. Your sjelevenn saved the life of one of his vassals and killed the feline without assistance. The retelling was… masterful.” She sounded utterly impressed, a flush of amazement on her face, and excitement in her smile.

“Of course he did,” you and Bucky grumbled at the same time and exchanged a look of two equally exasperated people.

“Can’t send that little punk anywhere without him getting into trouble,” Bucky grumbled.

“They said his grace used the cat’s own power against it to strike the killing blow.”

You held up your hand. “And where is his grace now?”

“He and the All-Father rode on while the rest of the party returned to Asgard. The servants would have presented the pelt themselves, but with our arrival, it gives them the opportunity to return to Asgard earlier than expected.”

“Did you inspect the stag?”

“I did, my queen.” She drew three broken arrows from the strap on her thigh. “These were found a few yards away.”

“Shit,” you hissed. “Anything else?”

She hesitated, throwing a glance at the pelt, her pegasus, and finally back at you. “There were the hoof prints of a pegasus nearby.”

“And?” You could smell her hesitation. There was something she wasn’t saying.

“My queen… I, I do not want to cast suspicion when there is no proof.”

“Yavi. Speak the truth and speak all of it,” Ama said sharply.

The woman, Yavi, flinched. “Pegasi prints and boot prints that belonged to a male.”

You inhaled sharply. “You are certain?” She nodded. “Say nothing of this to anyone. Have that delivered to the throne room,” you motioned to the pelt, “Then, resume your search. Find my sjelevenn and request he returns to the keep.”

“Yes, my queen.”

She bowed and hurried to help the others as you resumed your march toward the temple.

“Y/N? What the hell is going on?” Bucky muttered.

“Those are Valkyrie arrows. Valkyrie arrows were used to kill the stag and draw in the Smedlheim. I think someone tried to set up a convenient accident.”

He took hold of your elbow and drew you to a stop. “You’re saying someone tried to murder Steve?” You gave a sharp nod. “Not just someone. You know who, don’t you?”

Anger simmered in your blood like the first layer of bubbling lava. “Yes.”

“Who?” he asked.

It was like the flick of a switch. One moment he was Bucky, the next you were staring up into the face of the Winter Soldier. “There is only one reason for a pegasus to accept a male rider.”

His face ran even colder. “Another sjelevenn tried to kill Steve. Brynjar.”

“The evidence is circumstantial at best.” You tugged your elbow from his grip and continued toward the temple. “After I see what Loki has to say, we will pay a visit to Gunborg and her sjelevenn. Oda,” you glanced at the woman behind you. “Find out if Gunborg’s mount has left the barns today.”

“Right away!” She was gone in a flash of white.

At the temple stairs, you slowed to a stop a second time to turn and face Sif. “Lady Sif. In the name of the Goddess Freyja, I bid you stand as Asgard’s witness to what takes place in the Temple of our beloved Goddess that you may stand before almighty Thor and relate with honesty what you witness today. Do you accept the responsibility of Witness?”

She nodded even as surprise coated her face. “I accept and will endeavour to act in accordance with the rules that bind a Witness.”

“Good. You would have been denied entry to the temple without that oath.” You continued up the stairs and through the doors held open by the Valkyrie on duty, already working to strip your sword belt from your hips.

Willa met you at the altar. “Queen Sváfa. I am outraged by the actions of my priestess.”

You handed her your sword with a look that clearly stated ‘stop talking’ and followed Eira down the hall to the right. It didn’t take long to arrive in the center of the temple where Loki stood over Kerse, bound hand and foot and throat in chains of Asgard, ones meant for strong magic users. She was unconscious on the floor, making it a surprise that she was muzzled.

“Loki?”

“Darling, what took you so long?” He walked into the inner sanctuary without waiting for you.

“I got held up. What did you find?”

He walked the edge of the room, avoiding Freyja’s seal in the center to stand by the case of scrolls at the back of the room. “These are all fake.”

You’d barely made it through the door and stopped to blink at him. “Huh?”

He flicked his fingers, and the scrolls were suddenly laid out on a table next to him, each held open by golden paperweights. “These are all fake. Each scroll is a mockery of what it should be. None have gained names or dates of new lives in years. These are not the original scrolls.”

You gaped at him. “Then… where the hell are they?”

“I have an idea, but first you must see this one.”

He unrolled the document meant for Eira and Bucky. “Look.”

You shot him one of exasperation. “Loki.”

“Right, forgive me. The seal and sacred runes of Barnes and Eira’s scroll have been modified. Had they signed this, it would not have followed their souls together as expected. Instead, it would have given the caster of this spell power over their longevity.”

“English, Loki. I don’t understand.”

He slammed his hand down on the table. “Think, dammit! If someone else could access the regeneration of your soul, what would it allow them to do?”

“I’m not a magic worker, Loki. Just spit it out!” you huffed.

“She has been using Sjelevenn bonds to live for centuries!” he bellowed.

You stepped back, shock leaving your mouth gaping. “What? How is that even possible?”

“You and your Valkyrie secrecy,” he snarled. “You did not tell me your scrolls were bound in blood magic. Aunt Freyja has been very naughty.”

“Blood magic? Loki what are you talking about? Our scrolls aren’t bound in blood magic. They’re written in sacrificial gold.”

This time it was his mouth which dropped open. “What? But Barnes and Eira…” Then he was a flurry of hands, and another scroll appeared. It pulsed with golden light in your presence causing Willa to gasp.

“I’ve never seen one do that before,” she whispered.

“That’s because it’s mine. It will only do that in the heart of Freyja’s temple.”

“I thought you couldn’t do magic in Freyja’s temple?” Bucky muttered.

Loki was unrolling your scroll on the table. “She is my Aunt. After a quickly offered prayer of assistance, she acquiesced to my insistence that my magic was necessary.” He inhaled sharply when he looked upon the inside of the scroll. “My, my, my. Will you look at that?”

“What is it, Loki?”

“Cracks. Well, more like a web. One with fraying strands.” His hands came off the scroll with a snap, and it rolled back up. “Despicable!” he hissed and turned to stride toward the door. Everyone scattered out of his way.

“Loki!” you cried. Now what the hell had he seen?

He was dragging the unconscious Kerse from the floor, and before you could stop him or say anything, he slapped her hard to wake her up. Then she was bound spread eagle to the wall in ropes of ice within the next moment. “What did you do?” he hissed, ripping the muzzle from her mouth. “Speak the truth or suffer unimaginable pain.”

The halls were full of priestesses cowering in fear, murmuring prayers to Freyja. Willa wrung her hands together while your guard stood close to you.

“I am… innocent,” Kerse moaned. Loki’s fingers twitched, and she screamed in agony.

“Do not lie to me again. Tell the truth. Tell them what you did!” he bellowed.

She panted for a moment before her eyes flickered to you. “I… cursed you.”

“How?” Loki demanded.

“What?” she smirked through her pain at him. “Can’t… figure it… out yourself?” Another shriek tore through the air when Loki flicked his fingers.

“I want them to hear it from your lips, so there is no doubt in your guilt!”

Kerse balled her hands into fists. “The sword of her fallen sjelevenn… the scroll of her life…”

“And!” he hollered when she hesitated, causing her to shriek with more pain.

“The blood of an innocent!” she screamed.

Gasps of horror rose around you, but you could only feel cold. “How innocent?”

Her eyes shifted to you. “A babe, newly born. I slit its throat and used your sjelevenn’s sword dipped in its blood to draw the web to lock you out of Asgard.”

You stepped closer, rage building. “Whose child?”

She sneered, “Mine.”

Cries of dismay and disgust filled the hall.

“Why?” you asked. “For what purpose?” She refused to speak, and you looked to Loki.

“I can only tell you what the magic does,” he said warily.

“Loki… I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He sighed. “She’s been using the bonds of the other sjelevenn to prolong the life of her soul, but the curse she placed on you, how few lives you had, is because she’s been using the strength and power of your bond to steal bodies.”

More shock and outrage erupted, but you could only feel tired and sad. “How?”

“Every time she changed shells, you lost your chance at rebirth.”

Sickened, you turned away from her, a hand over your mouth, the other propped on your hip. “Why? To what end, Kerse? What was the point?”

“I spit on you and your questions!” she snapped, then screamed when Loki rounded on her.

You set your hand on his arm to still his hand before stepping closer to Kerse. “I have thought since my first day there was something wrong with you, something dark. There is a stench about you, fleeting but there. Who are you? What are you?”

“You don't deserve to sit on the throne. You never have.”

“That was not my question.” Kerse screamed when you lifted your hand from Loki's arm. “How do I break the curse you set?”

“It is already breaking,” Loki murmured. “Your return tore a hole in the web. Now it is unravelling.”

“Unravel it faster,” you growled.

“Then kill the witch.”

You looked sharply at Loki. “I need the answers first, only then can she be put before the Valkyrjur for her crimes.”

He growled, a sneer on his lips before taking that final stride forward and thrusting his palm against Kerse’s forehead. They both gasped and arched back, the connection instant and powerful.

It felt like minutes but was likely only seconds before Loki was stumbling away from her, wiping his hand on his clothing and the opposite over his mouth as if he’d touched and tasted something vile. “Disgusting creature!”

“Loki?” You went to his side and grabbed his arm. “What is it? What did you see?”

“She was there,” he snarled, “on that cursed world! She was part of the group experimenting on the Sjeletyv. The ones figuring out what they were.”

You gasped and turned to look at her in shock. There had been five priestesses who’d done the work. Out of the five, only one had come home. “Ēostre?”

She smiled darkly. “So nice to know I haven’t been forgotten.”

“What did you do?” you whispered in horror.

“You always thought you were the last Valkyrie off that world. How utterly unimaginative of you,” she huffed. “The last Sjeletyv was all too grateful for my assistance. She gave me the keys to longevity. I simply had to find the way to use it without dragon bones.”

“So you used bonds? Sjelevenn bonds!” you cried.

“Every single one,” she sneered without remorse. “They’re all gone now. Dust to dust. Ash to ash.”

“All but Gunborg. Why not her?”

“Gunborg is her sister. She’s kin,” Loki murmured. “You rose to power, took the throne, claimed the glory of battle for yourself while this one was relegated to corpse keeper and her sister was sent home. She was the one who married you to Heðinn, and she’s also the witch who gave Álfr the poison to kill Helgi.”

“You…” you gasped, pain tearing through your heart. “You killed my sjelevenn?”

“I needed you dead for the spell to work.” She said it so simply the entirety of the moment set you reeling.

“She’s been using blood magic, dark magic, since the beginning. Picking and choosing where to send her soul and when.”

“But I had two lives in Asgard before…”

Loki’s hands landed on your shoulders. “Darling… it was woven into the spell. Fast births and deaths to set the curse in motion so she would not die of old age before being able to transfer her soul to a new body.”

A cry of despair passed your lips. “ Why !?”

“Power. It’s always about power.”

“And the others? The other bonded?” you asked, soul full of anguish and heart pounding in pain.

Loki slowly shook his head. “Gone. She burned through all their bonds. Their souls are no more. It’s why she needed theirs.” He nodded toward Bucky and Eira.

Rage was a living thing, such anger you didn’t know how it didn’t simply pour from your soul in red hot waves. “She will be held for judgement. See she’s chained in the dungeon and kept under guard at all times.” You still had more questions, but you could no longer stomach looking at her.

Loki flicked his fingers, and the ice melted, sending Kerse plunging to the floor.

“Yes, my queen.” May and Frey hurried forward to drag her up and down the hall.

You waved a hand. “Magret. Jesslyn. Go with them. I want four guarding her at all times. Ones you can count on.”

“Yes, my queen.” They went without argument.

You walked back into Freyja’s inner sanctum and to the table where the false scrolls lay, placed your hands over them, stretching your fingers out to connect with each one, and let rage become sorrow, wailing your despair over all the lost sjelevenn.

“I’m sorry my sisters…” you sobbed.

“Y/N.” Bucky wrapped his arms around you. “It will be okay.”

You sucked in a breath and wiped at your tears. Grief would have to wait. “I know it will.” You squeezed his arm then turned toward Willa. “High Priestess of this temple.”

She stepped forward, still nervously twisting her fingers together. “My queen?”

“Why in the name of Freyja were you performing a blood rite!” you snapped.

“It was how I was taught to perform the ritual,” she said.

“She’s telling the truth,” Loki said, leaning against the doorway. “Because the former High Priestess of the temple was Kerse.”

You sighed. “Of course it was.” No wonder so much of Valkyrie culture and tradition had been lost. “Can you correctly execute the binding, Loki?”

He pulled another scroll out of thin air. “With this, I can. I took it off Kerse. It is Freyja’s actual scroll.”

“Good. They sign in sacrificial gold, not blood.” He nodded as you headed for the door, stopping long enough to smile reassuringly at Bucky and Eira. “Willa, assist Prince Loki and learn the correct way to record a sjelevenn bond.”

“Yes, Queen Sváfa.”

“Hm, lillesøster, before you go you may want to take a stroll down the hall to your left. I’ve opened a doorway for you that will lead you to a prize I believe will make you feel so much better.”

“You found him?”

Loki’s grin said it all. “I found him.”


	25. Chapter 25

Gunborg raced through the twisting tunnels beneath the temple, swearing silently with every step. It was all falling apart. Lore and Tyr were no longer in charge of the almost maidens. They could no longer impart the agenda they’d been pushing for centuries. Sváfa was ruining everything they’d worked so hard for. And now, Ēostre had gotten cocky. She loved her sister, but _fuck_! The woman had long ago lost her mind. What she was doing, how she’d been going about it, it was crazy, but Gunborg had no desire to lose her own life to her sister’s cause. And now, with Loki interrogating her in the temple above, it was time to tie up loose ends.

She stormed into the cavern beneath the temple to find the Midgardian passed out and headed straight for him.

“Up!” She kicked him in the foot, causing him to rouse. “Get up.”

He groaned then scrambled back. “What… what’s happening? Where’s Loki?”

“Loki?” She hissed another string of swears. “He was here?” The man nodded.

“I don’t want to go back to the pit,” he whimpered.

Gunborg pulled a dagger from her hip. “You won’t be.”

His eyes widened. “Wait! I’ve been helping you!”

“You’ve been stalling, and we both know it. Now it’s time to say goodbye.” She raised the blade high.

“But I can still help!” he cried, cowering away. “Whatever you want!”

“How would you help me?” she sneered.

“I know what you’re planning. You and your sister weren’t exactly concerned with me listening. We had an agreement with the last Sjeletyv, the Hounds of Hydra. If you succeed in your plan here on Asgard, you’ll be looking to Earth eventually. Let me assist you now, and we’ll be ready and willing to help when the time’s right in the future.”

She could smell his fear but also see his fervour, the glint of madness that her sister also had. “And how do you purpose helping me now?”

“You need to challenge for Queen, and you need to do so without the Avengers looking over your shoulder. I can make that happen. All we want is the key to longevity. Just get me home.”

Gunborg eyed him for a moment longer before giving a sharp nod and dragging him from the ground.

***

The village looked worse up close than it did from a distance. Steve rode along at Odin’s side, working to keep the concern from his face. This was not what he’d come to expect from the people of Asgard. These people were poor. Dirt poor.

It pissed him off. How could Odin let this happen? They were still his people. Shouldn’t he have been caring for them in some fashion?

“I can practically taste your anger, but as I said, without a voice, these people cannot be heard. And these past years have not been easy on Asgard. Too many of them have seen Thor away dealing with the fallout after the Bifröst was destroyed. For centuries now, the families of Sváfaland have been moving away, only those most loyal have remained. Those who hoped hardest for _your_ coming. Now is the time to reward them.”

The people looked at Steve with such curious excitement; he knew they were wondering, hoping, praying, he was who they’d longed for.

It made him nervous all over again, but that’s when he decided this was just another way of helping people. No, it wasn’t Avengering, but if his being a voice for these people got them what they needed, how could he say no?

At the end of the street, five men stood waiting. They rode up and dismounted, leaving the horses standing in the road and headed for the men. Out of the five, three looked like they’d just crawled out of the mountains with there full beards and rough clothing, while two wore neatly trimmed facial hair and clothes Steve thought might be their Sunday best.

“All-Father. We are honoured by your visit.” One of the better dressed said while all of them bowed.

“It has been a long time, Bjorn.”

“I was only a boy,” the man smiled. “This is my son, Jarl.” He set his hand on the shoulder of the second better-dressed man. “And the men of the village, Sven, Yako, and Lasky.”

Five men for the whole village? No wonder their crops looked rough.

“Men of the village are Watchmen. Fighters. Sentries,” Odin murmured as if he could read Steve's mind. “This is Steven of Midgard, son of Rogers, Hurgid's true heir. Queen Sváfa's sjelevenn.”

Hope filled all five faces. “This is so? We had word from the Valkyrie Jesslyn but weren't sure…”

“Apparently so,” Steve said, holding out his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

They all bowed instead. “Your grace!”

“Ho boy,” Steve mumbled, causing Odin to chuckle. “Look, fellas. On Earth, I’m just a guy. Here, we’re gonna have to work together to fix what needs fixing. Let’s save us both time and just go with Steve.”

“We couldn’t do that, your grace!” Jarl gasped.

Steve inhaled and held his breath before slowly exhaling. “Then how about Captain Rogers? That’s my title on Earth.” The men exchanged a look before slowly nodding agreement. “Great. We can discuss-” Steve gasped and grabbed for his chest.

“Steven?” Odin frowned.

Such pain ripped through him from Y/N’s heart. Utter despair. Agony. Rage. Disgust. “Something’s wrong.” He didn’t even stop to explain, just turned on his heel and raced for his horse.

He launched himself into Baldor’s saddle and set his heels to the gelding, sending him thundering down the road. They cleared the village in a dozen strides, the horse running flat out. Steve turned him up the valley and gave him his head.

Even when a few minutes later the pain and anger settled into nothing but a low ache, he didn’t slow the horse down.

***

You turned on your heel and marched down the hall, made a left and damn near ran for the dark doorway open in the wall.

“Majesty!” Ama cried. “Let one of us go first.”

You growled but slowed and waved her onward. She drew a slim dagger from beneath her armour causing you to smirk and shake your head. “Ama.”

She only shrugged and headed into the dark. “I doubt Freyja will fault me for keeping _one_ to protect her chosen daughter.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, flexing your taloned gauntlet. “I suppose not.”

Brynhildr pulled a blade from her boot, and you snickered before pulling one from your nape. When Sif slid one from her arm guard, it set all of you chuckling.

A sharp cry of, “My Queen?” bellowed from the front of the temple.

“Oda! Here!” The four of you waited at the door for the woman pounding down the hall toward you.

She skidded around the corner, bouncing off the wall with a well-placed foot, and sliding to a stop. “Oh! There's a door in that wall,” she said, panting a little.

“And a prize I've longed to get my hands on for weeks. What did you find out?” you asked even as you nodded for Ama to head through the door. There was a light toward the bottom, but not much between what came through from the hall behind you.

“Medina kept saying she hadn't seen anything. That Gunborg's Hissig hasn't been seen much around the barns since Hemme beat the stuffing out of him, but Ilsa a novate said she saw Brynjar retrieve Hissig's tack earlier today. Neither has returned.”

Your teeth ground together. “It is still only a coincidence.”

“A pegasus with a male rider? There is only one it could be, my queen,” Brynhildr murmured.

“We must still prove it. With the little we have, it is not possible.” But if Garry was down here, maybe he could shed some light on who helped him. After all, he wouldn't want to return to Loki's care.

At the base of the stairs, Ama pause. “I don't like it. There is no way of knowing what lies ahead in the dark.”

“Take the torch,” you said, stepping around her. Then you closed your eyes and brought your dagger and talons together. The sound rang out like sonar allowing you to _see_ all the way to the cavern at the far end. “There is nothing between us and the cavern, but I will lead.”

“My queen,” they all protested.

“Can you see around corners long before we get there?” you asked. They remained silent. “I didn't think so.” Striding into the dark, you let your senses carry you forward. Yes, it was nice to be partially sighted again, but this ability was invaluable.

The walk was short and done in silence until you reached the cavern were a palette and furs were stacked. You could smell him. He'd been there not long ago, but no heartbeat to give away his presence.

“Goddess dammit!” you shrieked, barely restraining yourself from throwing your dagger at the wall. “How did he escape?”

The women with you spread out, looking for other exits. When Oda's breath caught, you turned toward her.

“What is it?”

“The sjelevenn scrolls. At least, I think that is what they are. They are blackened and brittle. I dare not touch them.”

Pain burned like a hot brand in your heart, and Steve's gave an answering kick. He had to be on his way back. You hoped he was. This was so much more than you could bear alone.

“Here! I found a hidden tunnel!” Sif cried.

“I'll grab more torches!” said Oda.

You raced to her side and squeezed through the opening. Inside there was no light, and you quickly shushed them. “Hush! Let me listen.”

For a moment you could hardly hear anything for the pound of your heart, then, one by one, you tuned them all out and listened into the tunnels deafening silence.

Far in the distance, two beating hearts.

“Got you.” You ran into the dark.

“Queen Sváfa!”

Perhaps it was foolish of you to race ahead while they each collected a light, but someone was helping Garry escape, and you weren't going to let that happen. Who knew how far the tunnels went? They could be nearly out, and if they had access to a pegasus, they could be away long before you got there.

_Breathe. Calm your heart and mind._

It was like Matty was there, whispering in your ear.

_Use everything. Scent. Touch. Hearing. Even the taste of the air can give you clues._

You breathed through your mouth. Breathed through your nose. Softened your footsteps. At a fork in the tunnel, you stopped to listen.

Closer. They were closer.

You darted down the left tunnel, dragging your claws down the wall as you went and making a horrendous noise. Both hearts in the distance jumped and began to beat faster.

A whiff of fresh air brought the scent of Garry back to you and that of another you knew far too well. “Garry!” you bellowed full-voiced and seething. “You owe me your eyes, you Hydra scumbag!”

More fresh air hit your face, and the sound of their heartbeats faded. They'd cleared the tunnels, and you poured on speed. But the jangle of metal, the sound of running hooves, and snap of wide feathered wings informed you, you'd be too late.

You burst into the daylight in time to watch the tail end of a pegasus fly through a portal, and kicked a tree in absolute rage. “Fuck! Shit! Dammit to hell!”

Moments later as you stood there brooding at the sky, the others burst out of the tunnel.

“Odin's beard you're fast!” Sif gasped.

“Helps that I don't see with my eyes,” you grumbled. “They got away.”

“What now?”

You looked a Brynhildr. “Now, we go back. We figure out who's unaccounted for, though I'm already certain it was Gunborg who helped him, then I will visit the Einherjar. I have half the puzzle pieces. I need them all.”

“You're sure it was Gunborg?”

You nodded. “It's been a thousand years, yet she still wears the same scent.”

“Why didn't she just kill him?” Sif asked.

“I don't know.” But you didn't like it. You turned on your heel and headed back into the tunnel.

***

Steve was nearly back to the keep when the snap of feathers catching wind had him looking up to find the wing of riders dropping down beside him.

“Your grace! The queen requests your return to the Valkyrjur.”

He didn’t say _no shit_ just nodded his head and asked Baldor for more speed. The horse grunted, but stretched lower and found a new gear. The wing of riders spread out behind him as escort. It made him wonder why and just what had happened for Y/N to send someone after him.

He didn't slow down at the gate, didn't acknowledge the women calling out from the wall, only turned Baldor toward the temple. She was there, heart angry and aching, like a beacon guiding him home.

“Y/N!” Steve roared, sitting the horse hard on his haunches and launching himself from the saddle. “Y/N!” He ran up the temple stairs threat at a time.

The Valkyrie guarding the door didn't try to stop him, only pushed the doors open.

“Y/N!” he bellowed running toward the image of Freyja. “Dammit! Where the hell is my wife!” he barked at the white-robed priestesses standing idle.

They pointed, and Steve charged down the hall. “Y/N!”

“Your grace! You must leave your weapons!”

“No,” he snarled and continued onward. He'd been listening to her heart for too long not to be prepared for anything. He took a deep breath and belted at the top of his lungs, “ _Y/N_!”

“Christ, punk! You'll wake the dead,” Bucky grumbled.

“Where is she? What's happened? Why aren't you with her?” He backed Bucky into the circular room, cast a glance around for his wife and didn't find her.

“Down the hall to your left. You'll see the doorway through which she ventured.” Loki waved a dismissive hand.

Steve cast a glance at the little group of Willa, Eira, Loki, and Bucky but didn't ask, too intent on finding his girl. He left in a rush, hurrying down and around the corner where a dark doorway opened in an otherwise seamless wall. “Son of a…”

Not bothering to finish the thought, Steve pulled the shield from his back and headed into the dark.

***

You rubbed the heel of your hand over your forehead, a headache brewing. The nausea from earlier was back, and you were still exhausted. Kicking Loki in the ass was looking more and more like a good idea.

Then, in the distance, footsteps and a heartbeat you’d know anywhere. “Steve.” You took off at a sprint, leaving the others behind, crying out, “Steve!”

“Y/N!” his voice echoed down the tunnel.

He must have found the second exit as his footsteps were no longer muffled. Then, in your mind's eye, you could see him. Big, broad, his shield on his arm, and all the pain of earlier faded into the background. You surged forward, took the last step and leapt into his arms. “Steve! You're okay!”

His arms closed around you and held you tight, his shield arm at your back and the other in your hair. “Baby, yeah, I'm fine. It was you who had me worried. What the hell happened? It was like your heart was broken.”

Fresh pain rushed back in, and tears streamed down your face. “They're gone. All gone. All the sjelevenn. She destroyed all the bonds.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve murmured pulling you in tighter. “I'm so sorry. Who? And how?”

“Kerse. She’s…” You gave a shaky breath. “She was there, on that cursed world. A priestess named Ēoster.”

“What… how?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your foreheads together. “She stole our lives together. She used the magic of our bond to body jump through the ages. She used that of the others to keep her soul alive.”

He stumbled back to lean against the wall and just stare at you, his eyes wide in horror. “Ho-how?”

Tears dripped from your cheeks to his. “The dark magic. What Loki thought with… with the baby.”

His heart lurched. “No.”

You shook and nodded. “She’s vile.”

“Min vakre skjoldpike.” His hand tightened in your hair. “The curse, can we break it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It’s already breaking, but to break it completely, Kerse would need to die.”

Everything about him went cold and hard. “Where is she?”

“Steve?” You opened your eyes and frowned. His were like chips of ice, burning in there intensity.

“Where. Is. She?”

Your heart skipped. “No.”

“Y/N.”

“No!” You shoved against his chest and made him release you. “I have more questions that need answers. Then she'll be put before the Valkyrjur and executed. You will not take this on your hands.”

“She destroyed our life together!” he growled, grabbing you by the arms and shaking you.

“And it ends this life! But I need to know what happens with the Einherjar! I need to know why Brynjar set a trap for you today! I need to know what the fuck Gunborg has to do with Garry and how the Hounds play into all this! I need _answers_ , Steven! I need them!” You pounded the side of your fist on his armour. “She tried to steal Bucky and Eira's bond today. That won't go unpunished, but I can't leave loose threads that someone in the future could tug on. This has to be done right!”

“And what will you do if she doesn't talk?” he snapped.

You lifted your chin. “This is not Earth, Steven. Loki has already shown Ēostre how painful resistance can be. I will have my answers one way or another, no matter how distasteful I find the methods.”

He backed you across the tunnel into the opposite wall where his shield clanged to the ground. “I know this isn't Earth, believe me. I get it. After the hours I've spent with Odin, I can't help but know it. And don't lecture me about distasteful methods. I did plenty of things I'm not proud of for the greater good back in the day.”

Your guards and Sif had caught up but remained safe yards away. Steve shot them a hard look. “Leave us.”

“Your grace.” Brynhildr, Oda, and Ama all bowed, hand to their heart before striding past. Sif shout you a look before she too stalked past.

You listened to them return to the cavern and out the other side before returning your attention to Steve.

“I won't let you wear her blood on your hands,” you murmured.

“But you'll wear it on yours?”

You lifted your chin. “It's what a leader does. I’m the Queen, Steve. Pass sentence, carry out the judgement. That’s how it works.”

He slammed his hand into the wall. “I’m a leader! Do you think I don’t know that? You need to stop doing everything by yourself. I’m here! I’m yours! Let me help! Am I your damn sword or not?”

You reached up and framed his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. “Steve, you’re my sword. You’ll always be my sword, but this…” You swallowed thickly. “How could I ask you to do this? This isn’t a fight for your life; it’s an execution.”

“It is a fight for my life. It’s a fight for both our lives. It’s a fight for every life to come.”

“Steven…” you sighed.

“I would do anything, _anything_ to protect you. To keep what we have safe. I refuse,” his breath hitched and tears sparkled on his lashes, “to go one more life without you.”

“Stevie.” Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you drew him down and pressed up on your toes to seal your lips together.

So much emotion spilled between you, flowed and ached so sweetly your tears soon followed. The kiss deepened, and you could taste the salt of your tears.

Soft love became a desperate need in a heartbeat when Steve sank his teeth into your bottom lip. A moan burst from your throat, and you dug your talons into his armour to drag him down. He ravaged your mouth in a tongue twining, lips pulling, teeth biting kiss that set an ache in your loins.

“Steve,” you sighed when he kissed his way down your throat. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he murmured. “We are.” He dragged your thigh up around his hip and ground into your core.

Pleasure soared up your spine and pulsed in your womb. You could smell the sweat on his skin, and the dirt and rock of the dark tunnel walls. You could feel the desire rising in him, the same as it swelled in you. The thick ridge of his cock wedged against you, sending jolts of pleasure through you with every roll of his hips.

“Gods, Steve… please.” There was nothing you wanted more than to have him buried to the hilt inside you.

His fingers were already dragging at the ties of your pants, fighting them free from beneath the faulds of your armour. You reached for the ones on his and jerked on them until his cock fell into your palm. He groaned, his hands stalling for a second as you stroked the fat length. Then he was shoving your tight leathers down your legs until they caught on your boots and spun you to face the wall.

“Spread your legs.”

Your breath hitched in excitement when he kicked your feet apart, not waiting for you to do as told. His hand went between your legs and rubbed slow circles, spreading wetness, sliding through flexing walls with two strong fingers. “Sjelevenn, _please_!”

His other hand landed on your hip and jerked you back. “Hands on the wall.”

You dug your talons in, embedding them deep in the stone.

“Arch your back.”

Every word stroked heat through you. You could feel the throbbing pleasure in his cock that pulsed in time with your womb. You arched your spine, excitement pouring through your veins. His tip skimmed your core, then hot flesh speared straight through clenching walls to leave you breathless and keening.

“Fuck!” exploded from Steve when he bottomed out. Then he set a blistering pace, one that saw your thighs shaking as he took you high and left you hanging on the precipice.

The rapid strokes. The sharp slap of his hips. The way his breath came in sharp pants against your ear. All were sinful, wicked, exactly what you needed. You braced against the wall to keep from falling into it and tilted your head back to seek his lips.

His mouth met yours and retreated, lips clinging even though you both fought for air. His cock was like iron driving deep, knocking on the door to ultimate pleasure. As surely as it was building in your belly, you could feel it gather in Steve's.

“Please,” you moaned.

“Baby,” he gasped, dragging your hips back and down on his cock over and over. “Feel so good.”

“Sjelevenn…”

One big hand left your hips to smack down on your ass and send you reeling. Then the other lifted to sink into your hair and pull. “That's it, baby. Come on my cock.”

The words were all it took to see the final stage finish. Pleasure so strong it whited out your hearing poured through you when your walls snapped shut around him. Steve growled in your ear and a second wave of bliss left you crying out and shaking when his hips snapped up and arm curled around his waist.

You sagged against your arms, gasping for air, Steve falling against your spine.

“Wow, that was…” You had no words.

“Fucking hot,” Steve murmured.

You snickered and leaned your head on your hand. “I’ve never had hot underground sex before.”

“Neither have I,” he chuckled, pulling away.

Big hands skimmed your ass and down the back of your thighs and pulled your pants back up. You took over and tied the laces, making sure your skirt of faulds fell straight before turning to look at Steve, struggling with is own.

You chuckled and brushed his hands away. “Let me.” You tucked him away, fixed the placards, and tugged the ties.

“Baby,” he moaned and rested his hands on the wall behind you. “You keep touching me that much, and I’ll be taking those pants down again.”

You cupped him through his pants and gave a gentle squeeze to his thickening cock. “Keep it in your pants, Rogers.”

“You’re a cruel woman,” he groaned.

“Steve.” You reached up to lay your hand against his cheek lightly. “I love you.”

“Y/N,” he sighed and ducked his head to kiss you.

You pressed your thumb to his lips and held him back. “I love you, but I won’t let you be the one to execute Kerse. That’s not who you are.”

“Darlin’,” he frowned.

“Steven, that’s not who you are,” you reiterated.

He sighed but nodded. “The offer still stands.”

“That’s why I love you. You’re a good man, Steven.” You patted his chest, then stepped on the edge of his shield to raise it up and hand it back. How was the hunt?”

He shrugged. “Nothing I couldn't handle.”

“I already got the pelt, sjelevenn,” you grumbled, heading for the exit to the cavern.

“Oh…”

You chuckled when he blushed. “And Odin?”

“He's a meddling old fart.”

You burst out laughing. “Yes, he is!”

He grunted, evidently annoyed. “Did you know he was going to give me a castle?”

“What?” You stopped to stare at his dark shadow.

“And a treasure room full of gold, jewels. Fucking crowns,” he grumbled. “I have a freaking crown, Y/N.”

His irritation made it hard to keep the smile out of your voice. “Did you try it on?”

“No,” he scoffed, but a sigh seconds letter sagged his shoulders. “The village is… rough.”

“Wait,” you frowned before sneaking through the hidden opening into the cavern. “He took you to the village? Steve, did he pressure you into something?”

“No,” he sighed again and scrapped his armour front and back squeezing through the opening. “Maybe a little, but if you'd seen them, Y/N, you'd know why I have to help. They're so poor and here's this vault in a castle big enough to fit everyone from that village five times over that could make all the difference sitting there waiting for _me_ to do something with it.” He jerked himself free of the opening and thrust a hand through his hair. “They looked at me and… God, it was like rescuing the 107th all over again. Cautious hope.”

“Hey.” You took his hand. “We'll help them. However, they need.”

“Odin said Loki could teach me.”

“And what's wrong with me?” you huffed.

He rolled his eyes. “You're gonna be busy for a while, and these people can't wait.”

“I can still help,” you grumbled. “I do know how to run a keep.”

His arm went around your shoulders as you headed through the cavern to the tunnel that would lead back into the temple. “And when you get things straightened out and running smoothly here, I will welcome your input.”

You pouted a little but knew he was right. It would take time to get things settled with your Valkyrie and splitting your focus would go poorly. “Well, I still want to see the keep. It’s been a long time since I’ve been there.”

“First life?” he asked.

“First life,” you agreed, starting up the stairs.

Steve’s hands suddenly surrounded the front of your thighs and drew you to a stop; then he was pressed against your back, his hands sliding up to hold you close before drifting up to cup your metal-clad breasts. “Next time,” he sighed.

You burst out laughing and slapped his hands away, ignoring the shot of lust that surged through your belly. Continuing up the stairs, you smiled at your waiting guard. May and Frey had returned, but it appeared Jesslyn and Magret had stayed with Kerse.

Ama arched a brow when you appeared before a smirk curled her lips. “You have dirt on your cheek, my queen.”

“And your skirt is crooked,” Oda snickered.

“There’s clear beard burn on your throat,” Brynhildr teased.

“Is that a blush?” May nudged Frey.

“Okay, okay,” you snickered, holding up your hands. “You’re embarrassing Lady Sif.”

They all looked at the dark-haired woman whose face was red. “I-I… I’m fine,” she squeaked.

You chuckled and looked up at Steve. His eyes sparkled even though his cheeks and ears were pink. “Let’s get Bucky and Eira and go see if Ragnar’s got any news for us.”

His hand landed on your low back, then slipped down to surreptitiously adjust the faulds over your backside. “Let’s find those answers.”

You nodded. “And get our lives back.” 

It was time to end this.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: more angst, swearing
> 
> Song: Always Remember Us This Way by Lady Gaga

* * *

 

“We're going to Valhalla?” Steve asked as the group of them made their way out of the temple.

“We have to if we want to get to Glaðsheimr.”

“You know that means literally nothing to either of us,” Bucky snickered, his arm slung over Eira's shoulders.

Steve smirked at him, thankful to have someone else bring up their lack of understanding for once.

Y/N shook her head. “Seriously, Germanic mythology for Dummies. That's what you're both getting for Christmas this year. Glaðsheimr is the realm where the Einherjar live outside of Valhalla. Where they train for Ragnarok.” She walked out into the sun and paused briefly. “All-father.”

Odin sat on his eight-legged steed at the foot of the temple stairs. “Daughter. Your sjelevenn returned to you so quickly I was concerned.”

Y/N made her way down the steps by herself where she stopped at Sleipnir's shoulder, her hand upon the steed's dark hide. “I had… unfortunate news.” Fresh tears filled her eyes and made Steve's heart ache for her. “The sjelevenn are gone. The bonds destroyed by one of Freyja's own priestesses.”

Odin’s hand tightened on the spear he carried. “Have you caught the one responsible?”

“We have,” she nodded.

“And the Einherjar?”

“We are on our way to speak with them now.”

He tilted his head then focused on Sif. “Lady Sif, I am returning to Asgard. Thor will want to know what happened here.”

“Of course, All-father.”

She made her way past him, but Steve touched her arm. “I pushed your horse hard to get back here.”

Sif smiled and shook her head. “He is a child of Sleipner. They are born to run long and run hard. Baldor will be fine. He is strong.”

As if to prove her words, one of the blue-robed accolades appeared with the horse in tow. He looked no worse for wear. Maybe a little sweaty, but he pranced along happily behind the girl.

“Hm,” Sif smirked. “It appears he had a very good day. He looks rather full of himself.” She chuckled and patted Steve’s arm. “Your grace.”

“Lady Sif. Thanks for the loan.”

“When next you return to Asgard, we shall have to find you a mount.” She glanced at Bucky. “And him too.”

“Great!” Bucky grinned.

Steve rolled his eyes. Bucky loved the whole knights and horses aspect of the entire adventure, but his girl’s heart still hurt from the level of betrayal this priestess had enacted. She was speaking with Odin, still, but their voices no longer carried.

She turned, so her back was to them, her head slightly bowed. Though no one could see it, Steve knew fresh tears fell down her face. Odin said something that had her lifting her head, and she stroked a hand down Sleipnir's shoulder.

Steve made his way down the steps with Sif but headed for Y/N to stand at her back and offer support with a firm hand on her waist. “All-father. Thank you for showing me Sváfaland. I hope I didn’t offend the men with my quick exit.”

Odin waved a dismissive hand. “They are men with women of their own, though I had to make some rather vague, mystical excuses as to why you would know something was wrong in the Valkyrjur.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Steve smirked a little at. “I bet.”

“I would ride a hunt with you again, Steven, son of Rogers. Loki.” He looked up at his son leaning ideally against the temple door.

“Father?” The man uncoiled like a snake preparing to strike.

Odin's face went hard as stone. “You know what must be done.”

“Oh yes, I am well aware,” the dark-haired God of Mischief smiled.

“Good. See it done.” The former king of Asgard turned his mount away. “Oh, and assist Sváfaland's new king in learning what it means to run a kingdom. Come, Sif.” He rode off with Sif following.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki barked, but Odin ignored him and opened the way for himself and Sif to return to Asgard the same way he'd sent the injured men.

While Loki seethed and Bucky snickered, Steve looked down at Y/N and cupped her chin. “Baby?”

She sagged for a moment before everything about her hardened into the queen who ruled. “I'm fine. He was kind but demanding. The norm.”

Still, Steve didn't like the dark circles beneath her eyes or how pale she was. “Are you still sick from last night?”

“It's nothing. I'm a little nauseous off and on, but I'm fine.” She brushed him off again.

“Y/N,” he warned.

“Steven,” she sighed. “It's fine. Today has just sucked serious slark nuts. I need you to help me figure out what's happening with the Einherjar. I need all of this to be over.” She moved away from him to begin directing her guard.

“You need to eat something.” It was a command, and she knew it when her back went ramrod straight.

Her eyes were like ice when she shot him a look over her shoulder. “I will eat when time permits.”

“ Respectfully, my queen, you will eat now or I will hall you in there over my shoulder and feed you myself.”

No one moved. No one breathed. She turned slowly to face him, her body flowing into a better position to fight him. “Is that an order, Captain?”

He ground his teeth together and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s a request, not from your Captain, but your husband. I'm concerned for your health.”

Some of the tension went out of her shoulders. “Very well. A detour.”

It surprised him for he hadn't thought that would work. Steve relaxed his arms and held out his hand. She took it regally, shot him another glare, and walked with him toward the keep.

He could practically taste the tension on the air.

“Sváfa, darling,” Loki cooed arriving at her opposite elbow. “Father has set me a small task. I'm for the dungeon.”

“Find me some answers, Loki,” she said, her voice emotionless.

“Your grace,” Loki tilted his head. “Lessons on kingly ways will have to wait until later.”

“I appreciate the assistance, Loki. I was going to ask you myself before Odin beat me to it. If you don't want to-”

Loki waved a hand. “What are friends for? We're practically family after all.”

He smiled so deviously Steve wondered if that should worry him. “Sure…”

“Excellent!” Loki disappeared in a sparkle of green and gold magic.

“Should you be worried about that, punk?”

Steve glanced back at Bucky and shrugged.

“You just gave him licence to prank you as often as he does Thor.”

His neck cracked he whipped his head around so fast, only to find his girl smirking wickedly. “What! Why didn't you say anything?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Because I'm annoyed with you. His pranks are harmless.”

“He stabs people and thinks it's funny!”

“He stabs Thor. Thor can take it. He'll be more gentle with you. Probably,” she shrugged.

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Bucky snickered to Eira who chuckled.

They'd made their way inside the castle, and Steve glanced toward an open door. It appeared a classroom that stood empty. Before anyone could stop him, or guess what he was up to, he jerked Y/N through the door and slammed it shut, leaving everyone else to cool their heels in the hall.

“Alright, enough.” He turned to scowl at her.

“Enough what, Captain?” she snapped, her hands landing on her hips.

“Enough of this! It's just us now. You don't have to keep acting like nothing is wrong when I know damn well everything is wrong! Cry. Scream. Yell, for God sake! But stop bottling it all up.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “You need to grieve for them!”

“I can't!” But her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I'm afraid I'll start and never stop. I can't show weakness. Not with so much unrest!” Yet, she shook all over as she stood there, fighting for every breath.

Steve dragged her forward and up into his arms where she could wrap hers around his neck and her legs around his waist. “You can with me. There's no one here but me. Let go, dollface. Grieve for your friends.”

It started as nothing more than violent shaking, then a sob burst, and another, and tears wet the skin of his throat until a keening wail of loss broke from her lips, and she cried in great heaving sobs against him.

Steve leaned against one of the tables and patted her back. He remembered all too well that feeling. When someone important died at the end of your fingers, he knew that feeling so, so well. When you were just that close, and they slipped away from your grasp. That was how her heart felt right now — that broken, shattered feeling of being so damn close.

“None of this is your fault. You had no way of knowing what Kerse had done or was doing. Their loss is not on you.”

“I know,” she sniffed, “but I thought… I thought I would see them again. I thought maybe my curse was keeping them out of Asgard too, but now… I’m never going to see them again. I lost my family, my best friends on that damn world. Now because of someone’s greed I’ve lost the sisters that should have followed me through my lives. I keep losing people, Steve. I keep losing people.”

“It’s hard, and it never gets easier, but you can’t blame yourself. We pick ourselves up and keep moving because that’s what we do.” When she lifted her head and showed him her tear-streaked face, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And no matter what comes in the future, you’ll always have me.”

A small smile curled her lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I like your face.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s a nice face.”

Her mouth fell open; then she smacked him on the shoulder. “Steven Grant Rogers. Did you just give me cheek?”

He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “Made you smile.”

“That it did.” She cupped his face and kissed him sweetly. “You’re a good man. I love you, Stevie.”

“Love you too, dollface. Feelin’ better?” he asked, tugging one of her many braids. She nodded, already looking more herself. “Good. I really don’t wike it when you cry.”

Her face lit up with the biggest grin. “Aww. I love it when you do that!”

“I know,” he chuckled. Then her face paled, and she lurched out of his arms, a hand going to her mouth, the other to her stomach. It lurched, and Steve felt it pull in his gut. “Y/N?”

She stumbled toward the window and shoved it open before leaning over the sill and being violently ill.

“Christ! Y/N!” He went after her, grabbing for her hair, his hand on her back. “Bucky!”

The door crashed inward. “Steve?” She threw up again before he Bucky could ask any questions. “Shit!”

“She needs a doctor!” Steve barked.

Y/N pushed weakly at him. “Loki. Get Loki.”

“Loki!” Steve bellowed, causing her to flinch. She pushed off the window only to have her knees fail, and eyes roll back as she fainted. Steve caught her before she could fall and swept her into his arms. “Is this poison?” he asked. “Is that what this is?” He looked from her pale, sweaty face to Bucky in fear.

Bucky gave a helpless shrug, having no answers. The women around him didn’t look much better.

“I swear, Captain if one more person shrieks for me today-” Loki sauntered through the portal and froze. “Sváfa? Sváfa!” He cleared the distance between them in a leap that took him over the desks. “What happened?”

Steve shook his head. “She was fine, upset, but fine one minute, then throwing up out the window the next and hardly able to stand up. Then she passed out.”

Loki’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Come with me.”

There was a shove, and Steve stumbled backward into their room through a portal that closed on Bucky and Eira’s surprised faces.

“Put her on the bed.” Loki waved a hand into the room.

“Is this poison, Loki?” Steve asked. “I thought she was immune.”

“I won’t know until I can examine her. Put her down, Captain.” When Steve hesitated, afraid to let her go, afraid if he set her down he’d never pick her back up again, Loki moved closer and set his hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve, she is immune to poison, I checked myself. Why she’s ill, I won’t know until I can check her over, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep her with you. I too have no desire to lose her again.”

He could see it, the worry and the determination on Loki’s face, and finally set Y/N down on the foot of their bed, then sat at her head and pulled the handkerchief from inside his arm guard to wipe the sweat from her brow. “You’re scarin’ the crap out of me, baby. I need you to wake up.”

He didn’t pay much attention to the magic and whatnot of Loki, only noticing when his girl’s armour disappeared.

“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” Steve murmured, continuing to stroke her brow.

“I’m not.” Loki set his glowing hand over Y/N’s heart. “At least not in the sense of your Midgardian ways. I can use magic to heal minor injuries, diagnose foul means and intentions. I cannot remove a tumour from a human brain.” He paused and looked up at the wall across the room. “Well, perhaps with practice.” He went back to examining Y/N, hands sliding down her body before pausing as a frown furrowed his brow.

“What? What is it?” Steve asked, fear making his heart clutch in his chest.

The frown didn’t clear when he looked up. “She is dehydrated and exhausted. She needs fluid and rest.”

“That’s it?” It didn’t sound right, and with how Loki still looked concerned, Steve didn’t believe his for a second.

Loki looked away. “I need to speak with Y/N when she wakes.”

The sense of fear grew deeper. “Loki, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” He pushed to his feet and walked across the room.

“Loki!”

“I will speak with Y/N when she wakes, Captain!” he snapped, then sighed. “But I assure you, she is fine.” He picked up a pitcher of water and poured a glass, then returned to sit at Y/N’s hip.

It appeared all they could do, was wait.

***

The brushing of fingers over your hair were what you woke to. Two hearts. Two people breathing. The scent of Steve and Loki. You groaned and opened your eyes.

“Hey. Hey, baby,” Steve murmured, holding your shoulder down as you tried to sit up.

You closed your eyes for a second, a headache throbbing in your temples. “What happened? Ugh, my mouth tastes foul.”

“You threw up and fainted,” Loki said.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Shut up, Loki.”

“And here I was going to give you something to drink to clear that taste from your mouth. Your breath is just as disgusting, by the way.”

“Now you can shut up and get out,” you huffed.

“Darling.”

This time you didn’t let Steve keep you down but sat up and held your hand out for the glass. “What’s wrong, Loki?”

“Captain, would you be so kind as to ask the herd standing beyond the door to get the Queen something to eat?”

“Loki.”

Steve’s voice was hard, but you knew Loki. If he was sending Steve from the room, there was a reason. “I really could use something to eat, Steve.”

He shot you a look as you sipped from the glass and removed a good portion of the nasty taste of your mouth.

“I want to know what’s going on as soon as I get back,” he growled and stormed toward the exit, slamming the door behind him. It made you jump. Pissed was too tame a word for what Steve currently was.

You looked at Loki sitting beside you. “Spit it out. What’s wrong with me? Some kind of crazy cancer? Tumour? Fatal disease?”

“You’re pregnant.”

Your jaw dropped. “Come again?”

His smile grew. “You’re pregnant, Y/N.”

You could only stare at him until he reached out and hugged you to him. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Loki. Really?”

“Really,” he chuckled, pulling back to cup your cheeks. “This is wonderful news, darling. You’ve never had a child as a Valkyrie.”

It was a shock, a wonderful shock. “Why wouldn’t you tell Steve?”

“You are in the middle of what appears to be an attempt at a coup, dearest. Do you really want me to tell your overprotective super soldier husband you are with child when at any moment you could be challenged for your position?”

You could feel the blood drain from your face. “But… there are rules, laws preventing anyone from challenging a pregnant Queen.”

“Do you really think Gunborg won’t come for you all the harder if she knew?”

His words punched a hole in your stomach and left behind an iron ball of dread. “You… you think I should keep it from Steve? From everyone? No!”

“Y/N…” he sighed.

“No!” You violently shook your head. “I can’t do that, Loki!”

“And you and I both know if he knew he would interfere in a Challenge and you would lose by default!”

He shook you by the shoulders and sent fresh nausea rolling through your stomach. “Don’t, Loki! Fuck, you’re going to make me barf on you!”

“Ew,” he grumbled, flicking his wrist to hold out a small vial. “Drink this. It will settle your stomach.”

You took it and drank it down. “I have to tell Steve.”

“Then he must also understand what is at stake if you are challenged and he steps in.”

“Steps into what?”

You looked up to find Steve standing in the doorway. Your heart soared, then plummeted, knowing Loki was right even though what he was proposing was so very, very wrong.

What the hell did you do now?

  
  
  



	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angst, fluff
> 
> Song: I'll Fight by Daughtry

* * *

 

You swallowed thickly and drank the rest of your water, all while staring at Steve, your mind racing. What choice did you make? Lie and possibly damage your relationship permanently, or tell the truth and break him when you did what you had to do, what you must do, what only a queen could.

But as you sat there, hesitant, uncertain what he saw on your face, his changed. Gone was the suspicion and anger, replaced by slowly growing fear.

Quietly he shut the door on the faces of those waiting in the hall and made his way closer until he dropped down on his knees at your feet. “Whatever it is, whatever is wrong, we'll make it through together. We'll figure it, but you gotta tell me the truth, sweetheart. I can't support you if you don't tell me the truth.”

You loved him so much in that moment, so big and overwhelmingly full was your heart, it overflowed as tears down your cheeks when you reached out and took his face between your hands. “Steve…” His hands closed around your waist. “I'm pregnant.”

Fear went out the window when his jaw fell open. “What…?”

“A baby, Steve. We're having a baby.” A smile twitched at your lips.

He barked a laugh and lunged to wrap you in his arms. “A baby?”

“Yeah.” You curled your hands around his head, but it was Loki you looked at. The disapproval there made you flinch.

Then Steve pulled back, his hand sliding over your abdomen. So much joy filled him, it felt bittersweet in your chest. “How? When? I thought your shot was still working.”

“She appears to be but weeks along. Your Midgardian technology would not have noticed, but they are strong to have survived your battle with the ljå. As to the how, likely whatever the substance the Hounds used to return your memories of Sváfa negated the effect of your birth control.” Loki pushed to his feet to stand and stare out the window.

You could tell by the set of his shoulders how concerned he was. It came off as anger, but it was fear coated in the ice of indifference.

“They?” Steve whispered his hand protective over your belly.

Loki looked back at you over his shoulder. “There are two heartbeats.”

You breath seized in your lungs. “Twins?”

Steve’s heart kicked, and yours followed. Fresh tears cascaded down your face, and the sobs soon followed. They came hot and heavy, causing Steve to jerk back and stare at you in shock.

“You… you don’t want them?” he whispered in horror, but you frantically shook your head. “You do want them?” You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Then what’s wrong?”

“She’s afraid.”

Steve frowned at Loki. “Why?”

Loki snapped. “Are you daft or just stupid? There are days I sincerely wonder how you survived this long.” He turned and stalked toward you both, ignoring the attempt at a glare you shot him. “She is in the middle of a coup, one of which we have only half the information. At any moment she could be challenged for leadership and forced to fight to keep it.”

“No.” Steve surged to his feet. “No. I won’t allow that.”

“You don’t have a choice!” Loki roared.

The door banged open, and Bucky filled the opening. “Everything alright-” He cut off his question when his gaze landed on you. “Steve.”

“Come in. Shut the door.” Steve’s voice was implacable.

Bucky didn’t quite get it closed before Eira snuck through and came to your side where she sat and held your hand. Then Steve reached out and cupped your cheek, and the handkerchief he perpetually carried stroked beneath your eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Everything will work out.” Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Steve,” you sighed, suddenly exhausted. “You’re not hearing Loki.”

“I hear him just fine, but you’re having my babies. You’re not fighting anyone!”

“You’re pregnant?”

You shot a look at Bucky who looked about as excited as Steve when he’d found out. “Twins.”

“Sister,” Eira smiled and hugged you. “How wonderful.” But you could tell by the tone she understood the dilemma.

Loki huffed and prowled the room. “No, Captain, you are not hearing me. If she is challenged for Queen, she must fight.”

“Unless you announce the pregnancy. There are rules, laws that prevent-” Eira shrank back from the glare Loki shot her.

“It will only make me more vulnerable if Gunborg and her people learn of this,” you murmured. “They will force a confrontation believing I will protect my children before my throne.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Steve asked.

“Of course!” you snapped. “But I can’t just give over what Freyja has put aside for me!”

“Okay.” He knelt again at your feet, running soothing hands over your arms. “Okay, darlin’. Just take a breath. Will figure this out.”

“No.” You shoved to your feet. “No, Steve. You’re not listening. If someone calls a challenge, I have to answer! Me! No one else! I don’t have a choice.”

“Actually…” Everyone turned to look at Eira whose eyes sparkled when she smiled. “You do.”

You frowned. “Eira?”

“I've spent much time studying the old texts of Valkyrie law. Things that have fallen into obscurity but have not officially been put aside since no queen was present to do so.” She looked down at her hands. “When one is considered a failure as a Valkyrie, they have time to do things like reading.”

“You’re not a failure, Eira. You've never been,” you said firmly.

Warmth filled her cheeks when she looked a Bucky. “I know that… now.”

“Less cow eyes, more explaining,” Loki grumbled.

“Watch it, Loki,” Bucky growled and moved to stand beside his sjelevenn. “Go ahead, kitten.”

Eira curled her fingers around his and leaned into his hip. “It’s written that a queen may choose a champion to fight for her if there are extenuating circumstances. We have rules. Laws. We uphold our honour in all things. No one in their right mind would challenge an injured or pregnant queen, but at this point, I think we can all agree Gunborg is no longer playing by our rules. So if she calls a challenge, announce you are with child. She will likely cry foul, refuse to believe it is true, and demand you fight anyway. That is when you can invoke Queen’s Champion.”

“And who can be her champion?” Loki asked. You glanced his way only to find him cleaning his nails with a knife.

“A prince of Asgard is not eligible,” Eira smirked. “It would be considered an unfair fight.” Loki pouted. “It would have to be another Valkyrie.” Her attention shifted to Steve. “Or her sjelevenn.”

Steve crossed his arms. “Then it’s settled. I’ll do it.”

You closed your eyes and counted to ten. “Can we have the room, please.”

“Y/N?” Bucky frowned.

You sighed and opened your eyes. “Steve and I are about to fight about this, and I would like to do so without an audience.”

“We’re not fighting about this.” He had his Captain face on.

“The room. Please,” you murmured, continuing to stare at Steve.

They shuffled out and shut the door, leaving you alone with the man currently radiating immobility like he was a damn mountain.  “Steve…”

“No. We're not fighting about this. You are not putting yourself in any sort of danger. Not now.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “She's not just some Valkyrie. What you saw her do out there yesterday was nothing compared to how skilled Gunborg really is.”

His face tightened. “You don't think I can beat her.”

“That's not what I'm saying!” you snapped.

“Then what are you saying?” he roared.

You moved, swept his feet out from under him and put him on the floor with a knee in his chest. “That you need to stop thinking like some chauvinistic macho caveman beating on his chest and listen to me, goddammit!”

He lunged, and you were pinned beneath him. “You think I'm chauvinistic for wanting to keep my family safe?”

You flipped him over your head and landed on his chest. “I think you're underestimating Gunborg and that will get you killed!” Your breath hitched, and you lowered down until you could rest your forehead on his. “If you die, we all die. If I fight her, I know what she’s capable of. I know her moves. I know her ways.”

His arms closed around you. “And she’s had a thousand years to get better. As much as you think you can take her, she’s not going to be the same as you remember. Me, she’ll underestimate. Even after last night, she’s still going to think she’s better than me, and maybe she is, but Y/N.” Steve sat up, holding you to him, his hand in your hair. “I will never stop, never quit, never give up. I will always get back up. For you, for them and us, I can’t fail because I’m fighting for something more than a position or power. I’ll be fighting for love and family.”

Fresh tears dripped down your face, and you scrubbed them away. “Damn hormones.”

Steve took you by the chin. “You know I'm right.”

“Yeah. Doesn't mean I'm not terrified.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the fur collar of his armour. “If she hurts you…”

“Even if she does, I'm not going anywhere.” He set you back, and his handkerchief returned to catch your tears.

“Do you just have a dozen of those hidden all over your body?”

A smile quirked his lips. “Just one or two. It's one habit I've never been able to break. I think Fury has to have them specially made.”

You chuckled softly, then sighed. “She won't yield, Steve. If you do this, accept this challenge on my behalf, you'll have to kill her.”

“I know. It won't be the first time or the last, and while I won't rejoice in it, I won't mourn her passing either. But she’s caused us enough hardship.”

“Yeah, she has.” Taking a deep breath, you blew it out and hugged him. “Just be careful. She’s faster and stronger than you think, but she’s always been a little sloppy in her footwork, assuming her speed will make up for it. She can’t, or couldn’t, switch hit, so you don’t have to worry about her changing sword hands. She’s fierce with her shield, but nothing like you with yours.”

Steve laid his hand over your mouth. “Baby, it’s not like it’s happening now. There’s plenty of time for you to give me the rundown on Gunborg.”

Still, fear tripped quickly through your heart. “She’s formidable.” You threaded your fingers through Steve’s hair. “When I fought her when she was Fullmakt, it took everything I had. You can’t underestimate her. Please.”

“I won’t. I’ve seen you fight, Y/N. I watched you play with Heimdall. I watched you fight Murdock. I know she’s got to be just as good.” He stroked his hands down your spine, then he took you by the waist and set you back on his thighs so he could sneak his fingers beneath the hem of your top, and slide his palm over your abdomen. “They have to be so little. Barely a blip.”

You placed yours over his. “They won’t be for long.”

“You realize this means you’re benched.”

“Steve,” you sighed. He arched his Captain’s eyebrow and gave you the face. “Fine! But if I’m going to be benched, I’m staying on Asgard for a while.”

His eyes sparkled when he nodded. “I’m perfectly okay with that.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, of course, I am.” He shifted to roll you to your back. “I have things to do here, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.

“What about the Avengers? What about home?”

“I’ll commute if they need me. Ride in via pegasus if Hemme doesn’t mind.” He nuzzled his nose into your belly.

“Steve.” You took him by the ears and lifted his head. “You’re not doing this because of Odin and what he had to say today, are you? This isn’t some kind of third-hand guilt or need to semi-retire because of what Loki did to heal me? Because I swear, I will kick your ass so hard if that’s why you’re doing this.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I told Odin the same thing earlier today when he tried to convince me to retire, so no, I’m not doing this because of any of those reasons. I’m doing it because you're having our kid. Two of them. I want to be here to watch you get all big and round. I want to be here to help the people of Sváfaland.” He tugged his head away from your hands and returned to brushing his lips over your stomach. “And… I feel…”

“What?” you asked a smile on your lips, his beard tickling a little.

“It’s weird.”

“So?” You shrugged. “Tell me anyway.”

He sighed and laid down beside you, a hand resting on your belly while the other propped him up on his elbow. “You know how sometimes I get déjà vu? I get it all the time now. Everything is… familiar. Riding through the forest. The hunt. The castle. Even the ride back here with Baldor running full out. I haven’t felt this comfortable in my skin since the forties.”

You smirked up at him. “Bucky’s right. You are going native on us.”

A blush pinked his cheeks. “Life is different here. It’s a challenge. It’s making me use different muscles.”

“Different muscles?” you giggled, running your hands over his chest.

“Mental ones, yeah,” he smiled. “I've been a soldier a long time. Never thought I'd see twenty-five, let alone be alive now and living on Asgard.” His thumb rubbed back and forth on your skin. “Or become a daddy.”

“A little surreal?” you smiled.

“Totally.” He ducked his head and kissed you softly. “Are we done fighting now?”

You tugged at his armour. “Better kiss me again to make sure.”

He was happy to oblige.

***

Steve helped her off the floor a few minutes later, able to tell by the rhythmic tapping against the door Bucky was growing anxious. But he was going to have to wait a little longer when Steve felt the need to return his hand to Y/N’s still flat stomach.

“Steve,” she chuckled.

“I can’t help it!” He was too damn excited about them not to want to have his hands on her. “When you get all big and round,” he breathed out a choked breath, “it’s going to be incredible.”

“Well, for the next little bit, you're going to have to keep your excitement in check. Bucky?” she called toward the door.

He opened it instantly. “I don't see any blood.”

She rolled her eyes. “Where's Loki?”

“Still here. Waiting. Patiently,” he growled.

“You sound patient,” she teased. “Would you mind?” Y/N waved a hand at her half-dressed state, her armour nowhere to be seen. Loki flicked his fingers, and she grunted when it returned in a sparkle of green. “What did you do?”

“Added protection.” The look Loki sent Y/N warned he wouldn’t tolerate her questioning him further.

“Send in the troops.” She motioned everyone into the room.

The women who were now her guard came through the door with looks that ran from suspicion through concern, all trying to mask their emotions with stoicism and hard set jaws. Once they were inside, Bucky came through and shut the door.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t beat around the bush, just spit it out. “I’m pregnant.”

Almost as one, they gasped, smiled, then their faces fell as the enormity of what that meant hit home.

“But… what if…?” Ama was the first to say.

“We have a plan,” Y/N said. “There is a way for my sjelevenn to stand as my champion, but until that moment, my condition is to remain between us. No one can know.”

“There are already rumours flying. The Valkyrjur is aware something has happened. We will need to quash it, or produce a plausible excuse for your guard running through the halls without you,” Brynhildr said.

Loki waved a dismissive hand. “A light breakfast and lack of lunch, plus an overprotective sjelevenn. She fainted, and the Captain overreacted.”

“Cause that doesn’t make me sound weak at all,” Y/N grumbled.

“After everything you’ve been through these past months, no one will think you are weak. They will see how strong you are for taking this long to run out of energy,” Oda said.

She heaved out a heavy sigh but nodded. “Fine. Run with that. I’ll tell Magret and Jesslyn when the guard on Kerse changes. Two of you need to watch that woman at all times. We still don’t know who we can trust.”

“If I can be allowed to return to my duty, I will find out for you, lillesøster. ” Loki’s face was one that reminded Steve too much of when Loki had invaded Earth. It wasn’t one he liked seeing.

Y/N moved across the room and reached up to hug Loki. He rolled his eyes, but bent and wrapped his arms around her and held on just as tightly.

“Thank you, Loki.”

The God of Mischief pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will find you when I have something to tell you.” She nodded and stepped back, and Loki shot both him and Bucky a look. “Captain, Sergeant. Perhaps we could keep the shrieking of my name to a minimum? What I’m about to do requires focus and little distraction.”

“What are you about to do?” Bucky frowned.

Loki smiled, and Steve shivered. “We don’t want to know.”

“No. You don’t.” Loki disappeared on an evil laugh.

“Well,” Y/N snickered. “Shall we head to the Einherjar?”

Ama stepped forward. “Before we go, may I offer congratulations, my queen. A pair of Valkyrie daughters is an incredible blessing from Freyja.”

“The celebration will be one for memory,” May smiled, gripping Frey’s hand. The two sisters giggled together.

“What if they’re boys?” Bucky grinned.

“Then they will be adored little princes,” Eira laughed. “When they are born, we will know.”

“Unless she finds out when we go back to Earth.” All eyes swung to Steve. “What?”

“Men,” Brynhildr rolled her eyes.

“What?” Steve huffed.

Y/N chuckled and returned to his side. “It is considered bad luck for a Valkyrie to find out before their time.”

“Oh. Well how was I to know that?” he muttered.

She lifted her hands and stroked his stubble. “S’okay, Steve. We have certain superstitions and traditions, but they won’t come into play until after we announce. I’ll explain it all to you later.”

So much excitement filled him, Steve couldn’t help but grab her around the waist and swing her up in the air, making her laugh. “Dollface, this is the best news I’ve ever gotten.”

“Steve’s gonna be a daddy,” Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arm around Eira. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me neither.” Grinning like a fool, Steve kissed his girl.

***

Bucky walked into the hall of Valhalla beside Eira, casting a short glance up at the animals in the tree before wandering beneath the roots and past the rushing water. Steve and Y/N walked ahead of them, and while the idea of Steve stepping in to fight this Valkyrie chick gave him a quick shot of concern, Bucky had to believe Steve could take her.

After all, it was Steve.

He never gave up, never backed down, and considering he’d lived through the confrontation with Bucky on the helicarrier where he’d beat the living hell out of him, Bucky knew it would be okay. Steve’s will to live, win, and do what was right wouldn’t let him fail.

When it came time for Steve to stand up and stand in front of his girl, he would win. Of that, Bucky had no doubt.

“So, explain to me how we get to Gla- Gla-,” he stumbled over the name.

“Glaðsheimr,” Eira giggled. “It is the land the Einherjar live and train in outside of Valhalla. To get there, we must go out through the doors the Einherjar came in through last night.”

“Is that why we’re allowed to carry our weapons? Cause we’re just passing through?”

She beamed up at him and nodded. “Valkyries go to Glaðsheimr all the time to play with the men.”

A blush pinked her cheeks and made him chuckle. He bent closer to her ear and whispered, “We gonna walk in on an orgy?”

“What? No!” she hissed and smacked his arm. “Their rooms are for that.”

“What? Really?”

She smirked a wicked grin. “How would I know?”

“You little tease!” Bucky laughed. “I’ll get your for that later, kitten.”

Eira giggled, setting off May and Frey. “Anyway, Glaðsheimr is a realm outside that of Asgard, bridged only by that doorway. The souls of the men are brought here to Valhalla in the evening where they're presented to Baldi and Balik. If they don’t pass the wolves judgement, they are collected by Ekheart and taken to Fólkvangr.”

“Wait, the wolves judgement?”

“Yes. The Valkyries pick the soul, but even though they may be worthy in our eyes, occasionally they are not in that of the wolves. We don’t know why, and it’s rare, but it does happen that Ekheart will swoop down and take the soul to Fólkvangr before they can breach Valhalla’s gates. Those who do pass judgement are led through the gates and beneath the roots of Læraðr, and are feasted in grand celebration here in the hall.” A hall that was a little eerie now that it was empty, though it still had a sacred, holy air to it. “When they wake in the morning, they are introduced to Glaðsheimr.”

Steve pushed the doors open, and the light was momentarily blinding. Then Y/N took him by the hands and laughed as she dragged him through the door. Seconds later, Eira grabbed Bucky’s and tugged him along.

“Welcome to Glaðsheimr, sjelevenn,” she giggled.

Bucky half stumbled, half ran through with her, the other Valkyrie trotting through with a whoop or a laugh, the excitement palpable. But it wasn’t until his foot hit the grassy slope on the far side that he understood. He stood beside Steve, gaping at the beauty of the landscape and the overwhelming sense of peace.

“Heaven…” Steve whispered.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

Rolling fields and mountains, thick forests and rushing streams surrounded them. The air was pure and sweet, even more so than that of Asgard. It filled him with a rush of elation and a sense of joy.

“Look at that tree,” Steve murmured.

The tree he spoke of was enormous and so incredibly beautiful, Bucky was sure he’d never see the likes of it again. The trunk was wider than he was tall and the leaves were made of gold.

Eira giggled again. “That’s Glasir, the golden tree of the Gods.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t you, kitten?” he shook his head and kissed her cheek.

“A little.” She threw her arms around his neck. “I love it here so much!”

“It’s got a certain appeal,” he chuckled.

“Wait! It gets better!”

Her excitement was infectious, and when she dropped her hands to retake his, Bucky felt the excitement course between them. Then they were all off, the women he was quickly beginning to like and respect, running like children and dragging him and Steve after them.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked.

“To the training ground! You’re going to love it!” Eira squealed.

He had no idea what that meant, but followed willingly past the tree with the golden leaves, down the slope toward a band of forest, and around the stand of trees where the land dipped into a wide valley before flowing out into the sea.

The sight of it all had his feet slowing, and set Bucky gaping. “Holy crap…”

“What…?” Steve too was staring.

“It’s Kattegat,” Bucky grinned.

“Bless you,” Steve muttered.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I swear, punk. You need to watch something other than the news networks. That’s Kattegat. The village Ragnar ruled from.”

Y/N laughed. “It’s similar to Kattegat, but it isn’t that village exactly. There are more halls, more space for people to spread out. The sea for those who want to sail, or build boats. Floki especially likes that. Target ranges for the archers. Horses and fields for the cavalry. More fields for mock battles and sword practice. And the big grass plain there,” she pointed to the immense field beyond the village, “is for the Hjaðningavíg.”

“And what's that?” Steve asked.

“It's where the men fight the never-ending battle. They go, fight, and die on that field, and when night falls, the magic of the All-father and Valhalla resurrect them, and they return to feast in the hall with the winners being lauded as the greatest heroes of the day.” But then Y/N frowned. “But… that's new.”

“The glass hall,” Ama murmured. “Yes. The newest souls created that.”

“That's not a hall,” Bucky frowned.

“It's a compound,” Steve finished.

Bucky shook his head. “I don't get it.”

“Glaðsheimr changes to suit the souls. Things often show up that we don't understand. That building puzzles us. The equipment the men use is also… strange,” Ama shrugged.

Bucky exchanged a look with Steve. “Training facility?”

“Probably.”

“I don't like it,” Y/N said. “It feels wrong.”

“How?” Steve asked.

She shook her head. “It all just feels wrong. There are too many souls in Valhalla. Too many new souls. Oda, find Ragnar. Ask him to meet us at Floki's.”

“Yes, my queen.” The swift-footed blonde darted away.

“Y/N,” Steve murmured, the concern in his voice drew Bucky's attention.

“Dark. So dark,” she whispered, staring at the long low building of glass and steel. Then her gaze lifted to the sky. “I can smell the change on the air. Heavy unrest.”

“Then let's get down there and figure this out. We've got all the pieces, let's put the puzzle together, baby,” Steve said, taking her hand.

Bucky reached out for Eira's and held it tight. He had a feeling what they found in the village would bring as many questions as answers.

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angst, fluff, fighting, more revelations
> 
> Song: Poison in the Water by Von Grey

* * *

 

They skirted the village, avoiding as best they could the men walking about before slipping into the forest. The path she walked was no bigger than a goat trail, but Y/N made her way along it with quick, sure feet.

It reminded Steve of the forests they’d snuck through when he and Bucky were Howling Commandos. But this time there was no Nazi’s sneak around trying to kill them. At least, he hoped not. It was a short walk through beautiful old growth trees, tall and stately, and thick enough to muffle the sounds of the birds and animals among the foliage. Then the path took a sharp turn and headed down toward the water.

A house made from logs sat back against the hill, barely big enough to have two rooms, but it was the skeletons of boats that caught Steve’s eyes. There were three, partially built, each laid along the ground with planks spreading from the base up. And all around the yard, wide bands of colourful cloth billowed in the breeze. 

Then a woman stood from her place by the fire. She was tiny with long blonde hair. “Queen Sváfa? Floki said you were back, but I was afraid to believe…”

“Ock, woman! You are so cynical in your old age,” Floki giggled, swinging down from where he’d been perched on the stern. 

“Only because you are known for seeing things, my love.” She patted his cheek when he swept her into his arms. 

“Helga!” Y/N cried, skipping down the last of the rocks and moss to hug the woman teasing Floki. 

“I don’t remember seeing her in Valhalla,” Bucky murmured. 

Eira explained. “Helga is Floki’s wife. She’s visiting from Fólkvangr.”

“That’s Freyja’s heaven, right?” Steve asked. 

“Yes.” 

“So… how is she here?” he frowned at Eira. 

“What kind of heaven would Valhalla be if the Einherjar could not see their loved ones? When they are here in Glaðsheimr a doorway between worlds opens, and wives like Helga can visit for a time before returning to Fólkvangr.”

“I was hoping to see you. Have you been well?” Y/N was asking. 

“Very, but then I am dead, so what worries would I have?” Helga chuckled. 

“Wife,” Floki scolded. 

She only rolled her eyes but smiled up at him. “I only speak the truth. But look what you’ve brought with you, Queen Sváfa. Which one of the two is your sjelevenn?”

Steve felt a little like a prize bull but followed Y/N down to the gravel shore. “That would be me.”

“Mm, a big one,” Helga giggled. 

“They are both big ones, but yes. He could almost be related to one of Ragnar’s clan,” Y/N said, patting Steve’s arm. “Speaking off, I sent Oda for Ragnar. You may be inundated with people soon.”

“He has been very secretive today. Sending Ivar and Bjorn off to see what they could find out about the strange men.” 

Steve frowned at Floki. “Strange men?”

Floki returned to the boat he was working on after kissing Y/N on the cheek. “The ones who know nothing about Odin or Valhalla.”

“Floki?” Y/N frowned. 

“So much moaning and groaning they did when they arrived, complaining about the things they’d left behind.” He tsked and shook his head, then looked from Steve to Bucky. “Well, don’t just stand there. Give a hand.”

Steve glanced at Y/N who only smiled and went with Helga toward the house while the others spread out to keep watch around the forest. He then looked at Bucky who shrugged and began tugging free the buckles on his breastplate.

Eventually, Steve followed suit and left the heavy piece of armour sitting on a rock before adding his sword. Like Bucky, he had more daggers strapped to him in hidden places, but that didn’t help alleviate all of his concerns. 

Y/N trusted these people. Steve was still unsure. But he walked over to where Floki stood next to a massive log split down the middle with wedges down the length. 

“Have you ever built ships?” Floki asked. 

“Nope.” Bucky shook his head. 

He tsked again. “What do you people use to get from place to place? Shipbuilding is an art.”

“We’ve come up with other ways to travel,” Steve said, frowning at the log. “What are you doing?”

“Splitting boards.” Floki handed Steve a long-handled hammer. “You look strong enough.”

Steve arched a brow and looked at Bucky, then handed Floki’s hammer back. “Buck.” He nodded toward the opposite end of the log. They crouched together, each on an end, and took ahold of the scar down the middle. “On three.” He counted it down, they each gave the log a jerk, and split it straight through the center.

Floki giggled madly. “It seems Ivar was right. Perhaps you are not men but gods.”

“Just a different kind of man,” Bucky chuckled. 

“Perhaps I should have you two bend and secure planks,” the eccentric shipbuilder mused. 

“Anything we can do to help,” Steve nodded. “Long as you tell us more about the strange men.”

Floki blinked, his head cocked as if listening to whispers only he could hear, then shrugged. “Strange men, strange things, strange arrivals.” He motioned them over to where a long thin board with tapered ends waited. “Come, come.” 

Floki pointed at the board, Steve exchanged a look with Bucky, but picked it up with little effort. Bucky grabbed a second, leaving the odd man gaping before he shook himself and gathered a hammer and what looked like iron rivets, as well as a bucket he took from beside a small fire. The goop in the bucket was black, stunk of pitch, and was thick with what appeared to be hair of some kind.  

“They come at night. I’ve never seen them arrive,” Floki was muttering as he returned to the side of the ship where he proceeded to layer the thick goop along the edge of the last placed board. “But the next morning we come from our beds to new arrivals already in Glaðsheimr. They stick together. To themselves. None know of Odin or the war that is coming,” he said thoughtfully, his hand still over the boat. “Not so long ago, we had hundreds show up, all in a rush. Glaðsheimr began changing and now that…  _ building _ gleams against the mountains.”

“Have you ever been inside?” Bucky asked. 

“Why would I want to?” Floki appeared puzzled. 

“Curiosity?” Steve murmured. 

“Bah!” Floki huffed. “They are wasted on Valhalla! We fight for Odin’s honour, for the glory of Thor, and with the cunning of Loki. They know nothing of our ways, turning their noses up at our weapons. Calling them archaic when Thor himself wields a hammer and Odin a spear!” He set the bucket down with a thunk and pointed at Steve. “That one first.”

“You make these to fit one at a time?” he asked, stunned. 

“One must fit the tree to the job. A straight plank doesn’t fit a curved boat.”

“And the sticky stuff?” Bucky asked. 

“Luting. To keep out the water.” Floki helped set the board in place, slightly overlapping the one beneath it. “Now, the roving.”

“The what?”

He cast them both looks of dismay. “You really know nothing of boats.” Floki gave a long-suffering sigh then dug the iron rivet from his pocket. To Steve, it looked like a heavy-duty nail, one long enough to slide through both boards with room to spare. Floki set it against the board and with a half dozen strokes of the hammer, it was through. Then, he drew from another pocket a square piece of metal about the size of a washer, with a hole in the center. “These are roves.” He set the square over the end of the rivet protruding from the interior of the boat, and bent the tip over, securing the rivet from popping back out. 

“That’s ingenious,” Bucky murmured. 

“You got an extra hammer?” Steve asked.

Floki threw him his. “I have more planks to prepare.”

“Anything else you can tell us about the strange men?” he asked. Having no pockets in his tunic, Steve looped the front up and tucked it into his belt to make a pouch, then added a handful of rivets. The roves he handed to Bucky, who heaved himself into the interior of the ship.

“Don’t you need a hammer?” Floki asked, frowning at him. 

Steve pounded a rivet through the plank with a single swing and chuckled when Bucky used his left hand to simply bend and secure the rivet over the rove. 

“Nah, I’m good.”

Floki’s eyes lit up, and he giggled. “You… you and Loki must get along. Such tricks you play.”

“We’re…” Steve glanced at Bucky. “Family.”

“Ah. All my life I claimed to be descended of the God, but,” he shrugged and went over to where he had been planing down boards, “Loki swears he’s gifted no woman a child. Pity that.”

Steve exchanged another glance with Bucky, relieved by that news. He wasn’t sure he was ready for a miniature version of Loki. He didn’t think the universe was prepared for that either.

“Did you and Helga have kids?” Steve asked, his mind drifting to what was coming in his near future.

“We did.” There was a sadness to his answer. “Angrboda was our first. She was not yet four when she died. She lives with Helga in Fólkvangr.”

“Do you get to see her?” Bucky asked. 

Floki shrugged. “She has no wish to see me. I was a terrible, distant father. It is better she stays away.” He shook himself from his melancholy. “Tanaruz was our second. Adopted. An admittedly poor choice. Helga took her from a raided village. Insisted. But Tanaruz never forgave the death of her parents at Viking hands. She killed Helga and then herself. She was not of our faith. She is not in Fólkvangr.”

Underlying anger was easy to discern, and neither of them asked any more questions. 

“What is X-box?” Floki asked out of the blue. 

“X-box?” Steve frowned. “It’s a… game,” he simplified. “Why?”

“Many of the new men lament the fact they can no longer access it. Or the internal web.”

“I think you mean internet,” Bucky smirked.

“Something called Tinder.” Floki shook his head. “Though they appreciate the Valkyrie, many comment that they are not an “easy lay”,” he muttered. 

“They sound like assholes.”

Steve snickered and smirked at Bucky. 

“And Hydra.” 

Ice crystalized in Steve’s veins.

Floki frowned. “What is Hydra?”

“Bad,” Bucky growled. “Really bad.”

Before Steve could respond, shouting up at the house drew his attention in time to watch Y/N back out the door with Ubbe advancing, Ragnar coming after them. 

“Ubbe! Back off!” Y/N shouted. 

Then, out of nowhere, Ubbe lunged and his fist connected with Y/N’s midsection, setting Eira crying out in terror as his girl went stumbling back and down to a knee. 

Everything slowed down as fear washed through him in a rush followed swiftly by rage so strong it whited out his vision. A roar tore from him. Hammer and rivets began to fall, but Steve was already three steps away. The shield he’d left lying with his armour was in his hand before the rivets hit the ground and sailing through the air a beat after the hammer connected. 

It slammed into Ubbe, and Steve caught it on the return, watching as the man who’d been nothing but a pain the ass to his wife flew back, crying out in pain as the force of the impact shattered the bones in his chest. Then he connected with a tree and rebounded off directly into the driving force of Steve’s knee, slamming him into the narrow trunk and sheering it straight through. 

They landed together, Steve crouched over Ubbe, his knee grinding down on the shattered ribs, easily felt even through the man’s thick leather armour. 

“No one touches my wife,” he snarled, jerking back when Ubbe coughed a fountain of blood.  He watched the life drain from the man’s eyes as blood continued to flow from his cracked lips. Only once Ubbe was still did Steve rise to his feet. 

“Holy fuck, Steve! You killed him!” Bucky gasped. 

Steve looked down at the shield on his arm. At the red, blue, and silver. He thought about what it represented on Earth, thought about Asgard and all he'd learned in a short amount of time, and looked back at the dead man at his feet. 

This was not Earth. 

He turned around, head high, face hard, and took in Ragnar and his sons, Floki and his wife, and the Valkyrie crowded around Y/N. It was her he focused on. “And when the evening gong sounds, he’ll rise again. When he does, hopefully, he will have a better understanding of who he can and who he can’t put hands on.”

Bucky arched a brow, surprise in his eyes before he crossed his arms and nodded slowly. “You never could stand a bully.”

“Ivar is right,” Floki said suddenly, a giggle filling the silence. “They are gods.”

Steve rolled his eyes but headed swiftly for Y/N. “Baby?” he asked, hoping she’d get his double meaning.

“I’m okay. Loki reinforced my armour. I never expected… well. I guess I should have. He’s been working up to it for years.” 

She made to stand, but Steve didn't like the idea of her exerting herself and picked her carefully of the ground. He held her close before setting her slowly on her feet. “You sure?” 

“Stop fussing.” She patted his chest. 

Ragnar shifted, catching Steve's attention with his cocked head and far too knowing eyes. But when Steve narrowed his, the man only smirked and said nothing. 

“Should we do something about…” Bjorn waved a hand at his brother.

Ragnar shrugged. “He was stupid. When he is stupid, he deserves to be left in the mud.”

“And I now have fresh wood,” Floki snickered. “How helpful you are, your grace.”

They all laughed and were soon wandering off toward the fire, leaving him standing alone with Y/N. “You're absolutely sure?” he asked, staring into her ethereal eyes. 

“Clucking like a chicken,” she huffed before reaching up to grab a fistful of hair and drag him down to her lips. The kiss was hard, hot, and far too short before she was pulling her mouth away to breathe. 

“That was ridiculously hot.”

“Y/N,” he scolded.

“Primal,” she purred, her talons scraping over his scalp in a caress that lifted goosebumps. 

“It was excessive.”

“Feral.” She brushed her mouth over his.

“Brutish and unnecessary.”

“It's your blood. Asgardian blood.” She bit his lip. “You can't tell me it wasn't a little satisfying.”

He heaved a sigh. “A little. Which makes me feel… guilty?”

“He won't stay dead, Steve. They kill each other off daily.”

“I've never felt quite that level of… rage before. There was a second where everything went white.”

She jerked back and frowned up at him. “What?” 

“White. Everything slowed down, the world went white, and then it all righted, and I was kicking his ass.” Steve ran his hands up and down her arms. “What is it?”

“Steve… that’s what happens with the men in my clan... when they develop as Berserkers.” He could only blink at her. “It starts slow. The instant rage. The white out. The slow progression of time like everyone is standing still. Then it gets stronger. The rage lasts longer. The world holds that intense focus and everything is blinding bright.” She stroked her hand down his chest. “Until we can properly train you, anytime that rage builds up, you must take three deep breaths and try to contain it.”

It honestly didn’t phase him. They were bonded, a match, sharing souls. He could feel her. She was so deep she was in his bones. He could see souls like she saw souls, so finding out he was drawing on this strange Berserker power didn’t surprise him.

“Baby.” He cupped her chin. “If your safety is at stake, I won’t be doing no controlled breathing exercises. This comes up again, I’ll use it.”

“Steve. It can be dangerous to the untrained. It can be… difficult to come down.”

He frowned. “I… wouldn’t hurt you, would I?”

“Of course not,” she snorted. “You would never, even in a full rage. But that doesn’t mean anyone else would be safe.”

He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Alright. I’ll be careful.”

“You’re a super soldier, Steve. A super soldier with Berserker tendencies is going to be very, very strong.”

“Darlin’ I’m already strong.”

“No, Steve. You will be  _ ridiculously _ strong, faster than ever, and… ruthless. Berserkers have little to no mercy. They are lauded as some of the greatest of Asgard’s army because they go into battle and don’t stop until they complete their mission or their stamina gives out.”

He curled his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her closer. “I get it. I’ll be careful.”  When she smiled up at him, her lips quirking at the one corner, he shook his head and kissed her. “What’s that smile for?”

“You? Careful? The man who leaps from planes with no parachute?”

Steve laughed, then sobered when his eyes landed on Ubbe’s body. “What did Ubbe say? What was that all about?” 

“I don’t know. He’s always been petulant, but since I’ve been back, he’s been angry, cruel. He found out about Bucky and Eira and got all up in my face. Made a stupid comment about how I keep taking things from him.”

“Taking things?” he frowned. 

She shrugged. “It sounded crazy to me. I was on my way out the door, refusing to fight in Helga’s house when he came after me. I should have caught that punch, deflected, something. I’m still feeling… off.”

He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, darlin’. I got you.” He laid his hand on her low back and guided her toward the others.

“Now that the lovebirds have joined us,” Ragnar smirked as Steve sat and drew Y/N down into his lap. “Ivar, speak.”

“Always so bossy,” the man rolled his eyes. “We tried to get into the building, or get close enough to see what they are about, but it is heavily guarded. There is no way in if you are not part of their… group.”

“And they are not accommodating.” Bjorn played with a small hatchet. “I tried to join them for training, see if I could befriend a few, but they sneer and call me barbarian.”

“How many did you kill?” asked Hvitserk. 

“Seven,” Bjorn grinned.

“Floki. You asked about Hydra.” Steve felt Y/N stiffen. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Few people pay attention to the mad man talking to the trees,” he giggled. “They speak it in whispers, more and more often, these men who appear like ghosts.”

“Some do not whisper,” Ivar muttered. “They show their tattoos proudly and sneer as they go by. That is always before I stick my blade in their throat and rip it out.”

“What tattoos?” Steve and Bucky asked at the same time.

“On the shoulder, or the neck, or the arm. A creature with tentacles and a skull face,” Ivar said, running his knife over all the places.

“I didn’t see anything like that last night,” Bucky frowned. 

“We weren’t looking for it,” Y/N murmured. “And how did they come by these tattoos?”

“From the Valkyrie that brings us.” 

Steve was on his feet with Y/N thrust firmly behind him when the new voice sounded from the trees. “Show yourself!”

The man appeared, arms held out, showing he was unarmed. “Captain,” he nodded. “It’s been a long time.”

Steve frowned. “I recognize you from the Triskelion. Moore.”

The man relaxed a little until he found himself at the point of three valkyrie swords. “I come in peace, Cap. I swear. I saw you last night in Valhalla and was so… shocked. And disheartened. I thought they got you too. Then I watched you kick Brynjar’s ass, and your lady take on Gunborg, and figured I’d rather be with  _ you _ them with them.”

“What are you doing here, Moore?” When they’d gone into the Triskelion, Moore had been the man to open the door and let them in, but he’d showed his allegiance to Shield when he’d helped instead of hindering them. 

“Would you mind?” he asked, pointing at the sword beneath his chin. 

“Let him pass,” Y/N muttered. 

Moore breathed a sigh and came cautiously forward, wary of the many gathered Vikings and their blades. “I don’t know why I specifically was brought here, but I can tell you there’s a ton of people from the Triskelion in attendance and all of them are sporting one of these.” 

He pulled up his sleeve to show the twisted tentacles of a hydra tattoo. “I thought you got out?” Steve murmured.

“Missed it by that much.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “But then there was this beautiful woman on a white horse telling me I’d been chosen for great things, and I could have all I ever dreamed of if I came to her aid. Then I was here with all the others, branded with this, and being told one day the doors of Valhalla would open and I’d be called upon to fight a great battle.” He shook his head. “I gotta tell you, and don’t take this the wrong way, but  _ this _ ? This is not my idea of heaven.”

“Bah! You Christians are all so strange. This is the most heavenly of heavens!” Floki spat.

Moore shot him a glare but otherwise ignored him. “It was shortly after that things like the compound popped up. Then more people began arriving. Soon there were more Hydra people around then non-Hydra.”

“Why didn’t you go to Thor? You know he’d have nothing to do with Hydra?” Bucky asked. 

“Begging your pardon, but the last I saw of  _ you _ , you were trying to kill him.” Moore pointed at Steve. “And for all the time I’ve been here, last night was the first time I’ve seen Thor. But even then, he’s here with Loki? Loki tried to take over New York!”

“That was a misunderstanding,” Y/N growled. “Loki is not evil.”

“Lady, that’s all well and fine coming out of your mouth, but I don’t know you from a rock. This whole thing is majorly fucked up, and the only one I could think to come to was the Captain. Considering he looks more like one of them,” he thrust a thumb at Ragnar, “then he does what I remember of Captain Steve Rogers, I was wary of even following them. But Oda showed up, and they all followed her. I thought it might have something to do with you and him.” Again he nodded at Steve. 

“What do you know?” Steve asked. 

“I’ll tell you everything I’ve overheard, but I gotta ask, can I go home? I don’t want to be here.”

“Moore,” Y/N sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re dead. And the Triskelion was years ago.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “I never believed in an afterlife, but now I’m stuck in the wrong one?”

Ama snaked her way through the group to rest her hand on his shoulder. “If this is not what you want, I will take your soul to Ekheart tonight, and he can send you on to Fólkvangr. It is not your heaven, but it will be peaceful. You can rest there.”

Moore had a tear trickle down his cheek. “Still, I’ll never see any of my loved ones again. I’ll be alone.”

“If this existence is too hard, Odin can release your soul. It will be a true death. You will cease to exist, and your spirit will become dust that returns to the stars,” Y/N said.

“Think about it,” Steve said. “You don’t have to make a decision right now, but I do need to know what’s going on, and why there are so many Hydra operatives in the Einherjar.”

He sighed but pulled himself up tall. “There are twelve valkyrie from what I’ve seen. They collect and bring people here via pegasus. Sometimes it’s three or four, other times, dozens.” His eyes flicked to Steve’s. “Usually, they bitch about being taken down by the Avengers.”

Bucky rubbed a hand over his mouth. “You’re telling me, every time we take down a Hydra base or operation, were stacking the army up here?”

“So it seems. I was a mistake. I know that. I was never part of Hydra, and I’m not sure why they took me, but I’ve done my best to blend in since then.”

“Were you with another when you died?” Eira asked.

“Yeah,” Moore nodded. 

“It’s possible in the confusion, and if they were collecting so many souls, the rider may have picked up the wrong one,” she said, sitting down in Bucky’s lap.  

“But why? What’s the endgame?” Y/N asked. “What possible reason could there be for her gathering all of you…” Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap!”

“Yeah,” Moore muttered. “We’re supposed to emerge from Valhalla when the horn blows to do battle against the gods.” 

Y/N’s fingers dug into Steve’s thigh. “She’s not just trying to overthrow the Valkyrjur. She’s going to try and take all of Asgard.”

****  
  



	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language
> 
> Song: Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons

* * *

 

It was the women who erupted first, all their voices blending in anger and outrage and speculation. You were too stunned by your own assumption to answer them, your mind busy with the how and the when.

“Baby?” Steve murmured, his lips warm against your ear.

“I need to think.” You pushed from his lap to walk away from the group and down the pebbly shoreline, turning it all over in your mind.

The crunch of Steve's boots behind you while he remained silent was a comfort, but you knew it wouldn't last long.

“Talk it out, Y/N.”

It wasn't quite a command, but it was close and made you sigh. “Ragnarok. She's going to try and enact Ragnarok.”

“You think she's going to try and bring the demon guy here?”

You shook your head. “No. Surtur would try to destroy Asgard, defeating what I think is her purpose. But she can't open the doors of Valhalla without-” You stopped and pinched the bridge of your nose, knowing he wouldn't understand without a little back story. “Okay, Ragnarok is the prophecy that says Surtur will arise from the Eternal Flame and destroy Asgard. Because of it, Odin created the Hall of Valhalla to house the greatest kings, warriors, and heroes to fight in the final battle. While Asgard has advanced in technology and there are thousands of soldiers, fighters, and our Berserkers, there's nothing like the bravery of the men in Valhalla. They've all got to be a little crazy to do what they've done. We'll need that if it came down to it.”

“I'm with you so far,” Steve murmured, moving up to take your hand. It would have been a nice day for a stroll along the water if the conversation wasn't so dire.

“Last night, did you notice all the doors?”

“Yes. There were hundreds of them.”

“In the event of Ragnarok, those doors will open to allow the Einherjar access to Asgard to assist in defeating Surtur. But those doors will only open if Gjallarhorn is blown. Heimdall is the Guardian of Gjallarhorn. It's his responsibility to call the gods and the rest of us to war.”

“So you think Gunborg is going to try and steal it?”

“She couldn't.” You looked up at him. “It's Heimdall. The likelihood any of them could sneak up and take it from him is laughable. But we've already seen what Eōstre is doing with dark magic. I wouldn't put it past them to make a replica and somehow alter the hall to allow it to open the doors. It's the only explanation.”

“Why don't they just waltz out the front doors?” Steve asked.

“Can't. Once a soul enters Valhalla, they can't leave except through the Ragnarok doors. If they tried to go out through the roots, they would lose their corporeal forms.”

“Become ghosts?”

“Technically, yes, but as soon as they crossed into this realm, Ekhart would remove them to Fólkvangr, or if they were blackened souls, people who did evil during their life, Baldi and Balik would tear them apart, dooming them to Hel.” You sighed when he frowned, knowing you'd lost him. “The Ragnarok doors allow the men to keep their corporeal form. They are basically reborn into the world of the living, and that's likely all Gunborg has told them, but when I told Moore he couldn't go home, I spoke the truth. What men of the Einherjar still live when Ragnarok ends will be delivered in glory to Fólkvangr and Valhalla will be no more. They will be allowed to rest, finally.”

“And the ones who die?”

“Gone. They will cease to exist.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Do they know that?” He tilted his head towards the men gathered at Floki's.

“They know the risks. They have always had a choice. Valhalla is glory forever more until Ragnarok comes. Then it is Victory or Death.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his mouth, his heart beating fast beside yours. “And you? What becomes of the Valkyrjur?”

“We will endure, but our role will change. We'd escort the heroes to Fólkvangr instead of Valhalla. We'd still be the elite of Asgard, but would be absorbed into the rest of the army. Like the Kings that rule for Thor, I would be but another Queen among the courtiers.”

“Never,” he murmured, ducking his head to kiss you. “You could never be that plain.”

He really knew how to make a girl’s heart swell. “That was rather romantic of you, Captain.”

“I have my moments,” he chuckled.

You patted his chest but turned to look out over the calm water. “If she succeeds in emptying Valhalla, I don’t know what happens next. I mean, I don’t know if it’s possible to stop everything from crumbling. Once the Ragnarok doors open, that sets in motion a series of events, not even Odin could halt.”

“But why? Why release these men? Why bring Hydra here? For what?”

“I don’t know. I’m beginning to think there was a deal made somewhere. How did Hydra get my scroll? How did they know what to look for? The _Sjeletyv_ made deals with The Hand. What if The Hand made promises to The Hounds? Hydra spent seventy years working behind the scenes with Bucky as the Winter Soldier. Is it possible this goes back even farther?”

“They didn’t have the tech until recently to return you to Sváfa. Eōstre gets the secret of longevity from the last _ljå_ in return for her help off that world. The _ljå_ teaches The Hand, eventually offering the same to The Hounds in exchange for their manpower and possibly supernatural research. But up here, the two sisters are running out of time. Gunborg is reborn, but Kerse isn’t, and no new sjelevenn are happening, so no new bonds for them to steal. Maybe when she locked you out of Asgard, something got fucked up?”

His mind was a fascinating and beautiful thing to watch work. “The Norns work in mysterious ways,” you murmured.

“Freyja said everything she did to get you here, place you here, was at their behest. Maybe when Kerse screwed that up, they stopped forming the new bonds?” He shrugged when you smirked at him. “Hey, I don’t know much about them, and at one point would have protested the likelihood of them even being real. I used to say there was only one God and he sure didn’t dress like Thor, now…” a small frown and look of confusion flitted across his features, “I don’t know what I believe. This I can see. The history. The reincarnation. It… messes with what I was taught to believe.”

“Steve.” You reached up to take his face in your hands. “Just because our Gods are not your God doesn’t make your God any less real. Faith is called faith for a reason.”

“Or maybe the God I’ve always prayed to was just answering from a different place. Maybe it was your Norns who kept me alive and going when I should have died.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the God of your mother’s faith is the one who kept you alive and safe until we could meet again. I’ve seen many people and many faiths in my life, sjelevenn. All of them hold validity. No one was better or more real than the other. They were each simply the faith of those people, and each holds merit in their own right. What you believe is your choice to make. No one has the right to tell you otherwise.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead, then rested his head against yours. “So what do we do about Gunborg? And what do you think her endgame is?”

You sighed, taking a moment to wallow in the embrace of the man you loved more than anything before you let reality waltz back in. “I think she will challenge for queen and do so before we can execute her sister. She’ll fight to save Kerse, Eōstre, by declaring Queen’s Challenge. If she were to win, she would not only save her sister but also rule the Valkyrie. Then, she could open Valhalla and set both the Einherjar and the Valkyrjur on Asgard. There would be many casualties, but unless she has a way to stop Thor, Loki, and Odin, I don’t know what she’s thinking. Even with the Valkyries behind her, she can’t win. Not against three gods.”

“What if they used the chains like they did on Loki?”

Cold fear stiffened your spine. “Yes… yes, that would work.”

“On Heimdall too?”

You shook your head. “Doubtful. He’s been Guardian too long not to notice oddities when they’re occurring around him. He saw Gunborg coming to Earth long before they left the Valley. And his armour is spelled to protect him from most magical attacks. It’s not perfect, but it slows down the assault, allowing him enough time to take out whatever is after him.”

“So then what we need to do is pretty simple.” You looked up at him with a frown. “We force Gunborg to challenge, and I kill her.”

The statement made your heart lurch. “Steve.”

His hand fisted in your hair and pulled your head back. “You _will not_ fight her.”

Fire snapped in his harsh blue eyes. The look quickened your pulse. “But Loki reinforced my armour. I was fine after Ubbe-”

He dragged you up by the handful of hair until you were standing on your toes, nose to nose with him. “If you step one foot into the arena with her, I’ll spank your ass red, you get me, _your majesty_?”

Images of big hands landing on your ass, reprimands and biting teeth; fingertip shaped bruises and rough, punishing sex flashed through your mind and stole your breath, causing it to hitch and your heart to beat wildly. The bright angry blue of his eyes darkened swiftly into pools of desire laden navy before his mouth was on yours, harsh and hard.

When he finally tore his lips away, leaving yours feeling bruised and swollen, he whispered a sharp, “Fuck! You’re so damn dirty.”

“I’m so turned on,” you whimpered. “I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my cunt.”

“Pretty sure that’s the blood throbbing through my cock,” he grumbled. “Fuck!”

It made you laugh at the absurdity of the moment, then shriek when he picked you up and walked the both of you out into the freezing cold lake and fell over backwards, taking you under with him.

“Dammit, Steven!” you sputtered, rising from the water shivering. “What the hell!”

He floated there a moment, smirking at you. “Solved our problem.”

You shot a handful of water at his face and stomped onto shore where your guard had gathered in varying stages of amusement.

“He’s lost his fool mind,” you sniffed, storming past Bucky. “Drags me into the lake with my weapons still on. Idiot.”

Helga met you with a soft smile and a towel she used to squeeze the water from your hair as you began to pull your sword from its scabbard and then daggers from various places on your body to wipe down and dry off.

“Only a man secure in how much you love him would dare do such a thing,” Helga teased. “Floki has been known to do the same with me.”

“He’s still a fool of a man.” You stuck your tongue out at Steve when he appeared, dripping but grinning to stand near the fire and divest himself of his hidden arsenal. “It’s a good thing we’re already married, or you’d currently be single.”

He cocked his head and smiled that crooked smile that made your heart race, and you threw a knife at him, he easily plucked from the air then dropped when he stripped his tunic off to wring out the water. Yours was not the only eye looking on in appreciation of his wet, chiselled physique. “Now is that any way to treat your husband?” 

“Yes,” came a chorus of male voices as all the men laughed.

“Mother was known to throw things at Father all the time,” Bjorn snickered. “Most of them were also sharp.”

“Lagertha was known to throw sharp objects at all of us,” Ivar said.

“She did have quite the temper,” Floki chuckled.

Ragnar said nothing, but his face was soft, and his eyes showed his mind was far away.

“Moore was saying the compound is full of weapons,” Bucky murmured, drawing your attention. “Our kind of weapons.”

You frowned. “But… guns don’t work here. Or they won’t. Shouldn’t.” But now you weren’t so sure. If Glaðsheimr had created the weapons for the men to use, could they be taken through Valhalla and into Asgard? “I need to talk to Thor and Loki. There are too many variables. What else is in that compound, Moore?”

The man shrugged. “Gym equipment. There’s cupboards full of foodstuff from home, and when you empty a bag of Doritos, you just need to open the cupboard to find more. But things like the TV’s and gaming equipment, the stuff’s all there, but it doesn’t work. We don’t have electricity or internet, so it seems… redundant.”

“Yes, it would be,” Ama said, causing you to look at her. “My father taught me of Midgards technology, this electricity when I was a child. Asgard’s power is magic based. The lights, the ships, the buildings, all of it is tuned to magic. Midgards power is created through other means that Glaðsheimr is unfamiliar with and cannot provide.”

“And people who studied the old ways and worshiped in Norse tradition would have expected to come to Valhalla and find what you see here,” you nodded, motioning to the men and the antiquated setting. “They would have expected swords, and axes, and Vikings. Not glass compounds full of everyday things. Thank you, Ama. That actually makes sense. Moore? Any chance you could get us a gun?”

He shook his head. “They’re behind heavy security. We’re not even allowed to practice with them. Rumlow’s got a pretty strict look but don’t touch policy.”

“Rumlow?” Steve was frozen, nearly humming with rage. He'd been putting his armour back on and shot the last buckle closed with violence. “Rumlow is here?”

“Yeah,” Moore frowned. “He came in last night but left before dinner started. I’m assuming that’s because of you?”

“Steve?” You made your way over to him.

“Is all of Strike here?”

Moore shrugged. “A good amount of them, yeah.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He turned and kicked an overturned log Floki had been using as a seat and sent it sailing into the middle of the lake.

“Steve,” Bucky sighed. “Don’t. Just breathe.”

“The entire damn unit is likely here, and you want me to breathe! After everything they-” Steve cut himself off and shoved a hand through his hair.

“Bucky?” you asked cautiously.

“Rumlow and Strike were part of my team, my handlers, back during the Triskelion. They were also his team before… everything.”

His words sent shards of pain screaming through Steve. “Oh, sjelevenn.” You went into his arms and pulled him down to you. “It’s alright, Steve.” The Triskelion and all that had happened there had been before your time with Shield.

“Will it never end?” he whispered so softly it was barely a brush of air against your ear.

“We’re going to end it,” you assured him. “Now. As soon as we return to the keep. I’m done playing whatever game of cat and mouse Gunborg is running. We’re ending this.” You pulled away and began returning weapons to their sheaths. “Ragnar?”

“My queen?” Eyes like blue ice swept up and held with yours.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

You smiled because that was just who he was. “I need you to speak with the others, the ones who belong. The two thousand who were here before I left, and any who do not have the Hydra tattoo. Those you know you can trust. There are five hundred and forty doors in Valhalla. I need you to stand before them. If they open between now and when I return, no one must leave.”

“But… Ragnarok?” Bjorn muttered.

“T'is not Ragnarok,” Ivar said, rising to his feet. “T'is a false ploy. They rise against the Gods and against the Valkyrie Queen. We will hold the doors, or we will die trying.”

“Ivar… you always were the one to see most clearly,” you sighed as he approached.

“If I die this day, Queen Sváfa,” he cupped your cheek, eyes like his father’s holding you still, “know you were the only woman besides my mother I ever truly loved.”

“Ivar,” you whispered, shocked.

He smiled, and his eyes flicked to where Steve stood watching. “And that shows she’s never had eyes for anyone but you. She did not even see it.” He laughed softly as his gaze slipped back to yours. “Goodbye, my queen.”

His lips pressed to your cheek, then he walked away, Hvitserk bowing quickly before going after his brother. You could only stare after him in disbelief. Then Bjorn was there, the mountain of a man bending to wrap you in his arms and lift you off your feet.

“Be well, my queen. Until we meet again.”

“Bjorn,” you whispered, “Take care of yourself.”

“Always.” He set you on your feet and jogged after his brothers.

Floki was standing to the side with Helga, whispering to her while tears flowed freely down her face. He kissed her, and it was fierce, the full passion of his love, then rested his forehead on hers for but a moment before he looked up at you. “It has been my honour, my queen.” Floki swept you a flamboyant bow.

“Sváfa, take care of yourself,” Helga said, a sad smile on her lips before she hurried into the forest, likely heading back to Fólkvangr.

Finally, Ragnar came and stood before you. “Ach, what is this?” His hands cupped your face. “No tears, darling. No for us. We’ve had many wonderful years in Valhalla. A rest might be nice.”

“You’re so full of shit, Ragnar,” you whispered before throwing your arms around his neck. “Please… be at least a little careful?”

“I shall try for I want to meet your child when she or he is born.” He held you tightly, his breath rough as you clung to each other. “Daughter of my heart… be well. Be safe. Do not do anything foolishly brave.” He drew back, kissed both your cheeks, and walked to where Ubbe lay. He hauled the man up onto his shoulder and packed him back toward the village.

“I don’t understand,” Moore frowned. “No one dies here for real, but it was like they don’t expect to live through what happens next.”

“None of us know what will happen if the Ragnarok doors open. The magic that renews your life may end. Then death will be permanent.” You turned to face Moore, unashamed of your tears. “You must make a choice now, soldier. You can go with Ragnar and his men and join the fight that could be coming, you can return your soul to Ama’s keeping, and when it is safe to do so we can give you to Ekheart to send you on to rest, or we can ask Odin to release your spirit.”

“I can’t get a little more time-”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “I can’t grant you any more time.”

He stared after Ragnar for a long moment before Moore looked down at his feet. “This isn’t my fight. This isn’t my life or afterlife. I would like to be released.”

“I understand.” You motioned to Ama who stepped forward and placed her hand on Moore’s shoulder.

“Allow me to guard your spirit,” she said softly. With Moore’s nod of agreement, his body disappeared leaving only the gleaming white orb of his soul. Ama cupped it in her hands and brought it to her chest where it went to reside in her heart until Moore could be freed from this life.

“Wow,” Steve murmured, his eyes wide. “Where’d it go?”

You flinched as Bucky said, “Where’d what go? Moore just vanished.”

All the women were staring at Steve in shock. “You can see souls?” Eira finally asked.

You exchanged a look with Steve and Bucky, then sighed and rubbed at your temples. “When I returned to Asgard, we didn’t know that the curse keeping me from being reborn here acted like a web to keep me out. I tore my soul to shreds coming through the curse, and while this has caused the curse to begin to unravel, it also damn near killed me. You can all see Steve’s soul. It’s big now, but it was even bigger before. Loki bound us together. One soul, one life. It was the only way to keep me from dying moments after I returned to Asgard.”

“Blood magic,” Brynhildr gasped.

“Yes. You are the only ones besides Thor who knows what Loki did. There will be no lingering death if Steve or I die. It will be instant. If one goes, we both do. I feel his pain as he does mine. I understand if this changes your opinion of me. If you wish to be released from my guard, speak now.”

“That actually makes more sense,” Oda murmured. “I couldn’t figure out how you two stay so… connected. At times you breathe together. This makes no difference to me. I will still serve.”

A chorus of repeating, “I will still serve,” ran through the lot of them, all speaking the truth and nodding in agreement.

“There’s more. Steve can see souls, and I believe his sight is what has restored some of mine, but he is also developing… Berserker abilities.”

“Say what now?” Bucky grumbled.

“He felt the rage and saw the first flash of light.”

“You mean he’s going to get all glowy-eyed like you now?” Bucky arched a brow and smirked at Steve. “Shit. Tony’s gonna be so pissed. First a King and now you’re getting an upgrade and all you had to do was marry that one,” he chuckled and waved his hand at you, “I can only imagine the suit he’s going to build.”

“Yes, well,” you cleared your throat of the desire to laugh, “be that as it may, Steve is tapping into dangerous and wild powers. It’s very easy to get caught in the mindset. When that happens, the men of our clan are set loose on the frozen tundra and forests and left to run off the rage. As he’s got a super soldier’s stamina, that could take a very long time. Don’t try and talk him down if that happens. Get out of the way. Get other people out of the way. Get me. You got it?”

Everyone nodded, but it was Eira you focused on. Her nod was much more solemn. She knew how bad it could get.

“Alright. Let’s get back to the keep,” you said, sliding your sword back into its scabbard.

As you made to walk away, Steve’s hand closed around your wrist. “We’re going to stop this before it starts, _min vakre skjoldpike._ You’re going to see them again.”

“I hope so,” you whispered. “They’re family.”

“I may have to punch Ivar.”

You chuckled softly and smiled up at him. “I’m pretty sure he knows that.”

“That’s some big balls tellin’ a girl you’re in love with her when her husband’s standing right there.”

“Well, no one ever accused him of being sane.”

Steve chuckled as you walked hand and hand into the forest.

***

Thor looked up when Sif marched through the door looking pensive. “Lady Sif? Was your trip to the Valkyrjur not to your liking?”

“My King.” She swept him a bow and cast a sharp glance at the others in the room with him.

Knowing that look well, Thor muttered, “Leave us.” They scurried out like ants escaping a boot. “Sif?”

She told him all she’d seen and overheard. When she finally finished, she sank into a chair and accepted the cup of wine he held out to her. “Betrayal, Thor. So much betrayal. Loki is there at the behest of your father doing what needs to be done to get the last of the information from the priestess but… she’s breaking.”

“Y/N doesn’t know how to do that. She’s stronger than you know, Sif.” Thor crossed his arms and turned away.

Sif sighed but pushed to her feet and came to his side. When her hand settled over his heart, Thor captured it there. “She needs more. She will not be able to let her sjelevenn to go off and fight with the Avengers without her, yet if she goes, her nine will go with her. You know what that means.”

“If they go willingly without her asking them too, she breaks no laws. They are her guard. It is their duty to protect their Queen.”

“You did not see the way they look at her. From the young ones all the way to the experienced. They would _die_ for her! After only one day, they would all follow her into Hel if she asked them too. The Valkyrie have found their heart again, and though there is darkness trying to worm its way through the Valley, she is like a beacon. A blinding light for them to follow. She reprimanded a girl today, one who clearly needed it, and when it was done, the girl looked at her with awe. That is powerful leadership, Thor. It’s what they have been missing.”

“Then it is good she is on our side. Our Sváfa is returned to us.”

“Thor! You need to hear me!” Sif stepped before him and took a handful of his hair with her free hand. “You must give her autonomy to choose to send the wings. It’s the only way to see she remains where Freyja so clearly wants her!”

He looked down on her fierceness, on the blazing belief in her eyes that this was the only way, and sighed. “If I do this…”

“You must do this.”

“ _If_ I do this and she fails, I have given the Valkyrjur license to come at the Crown.”

Sif rolled her eyes and gave his hair a jerk. “You are not giving the Valkyrie Queen autonomy, only Sváfa. As long as it is she who rules, you can trust her to do so wisely. And if sending five wings, fifty wings, or five hundred wings out to aid our allies on Midgard keeps her here, keeps the Captain and the Sergeant here, would that be so bad?”

“No,” he smiled a little. “I guess it wouldn’t.” Thor set his hand on her waist and drew her closer. “Long have I thought them worthy of a respite. Even the finest warrior deserves a chance to simply be a man once in a while.”

“Then do it. Give Sváfa full control of her Valkyrie. You know it is a power she would never abuse.”

“Smart and beautiful,” Thor murmured before placing a soft kiss on her mouth. “However did I get so lucky?”

“It took you several hundred years to figure it out,” Sif snickered.

“I never claimed to be the smart one,” Thor said before kissing her again.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, violence, torture, revelations of dark secrets
> 
> Song: Skyfall by Adele

* * *

 

Loki lifted her chin and smiled down at the priestesses’ bloodshot eyes. “You have to know, denying me anything is futile. I will have the answers. You’re entire dastardly plan. And I will take my pound of flesh whilst doing so. Don’t think I do not remember it was _you_ who bound me in chains.”

Ēostre, known now as Kerse, bared blood smeared teeth and tried to bite his fingers. “I never attained more pleasure than listening to you scream when I ripped them off.”

A growl pulsed in his chest, but Loki only grabbed her by the jaw and squeezed until she flinched and the defiance fled her eyes. “As I have enjoyed yours.”  

He released her to step away and pour himself a cup of mead. In any other circumstance, torturing a woman would have made him ill though he would still have done so at the behest of his father or Thor, but this creature was no mere woman. The deeper he looked, the darker her soul.

She was, in essence, as foul a creature as the _Sjeletyv_. A soul-sucking, life stealing entity of evil that needed to be once and for all eliminated from existence. Her mind was a terrible place filled with anger and hatred and such dark magicks they made his flesh crawl even to glimpse them.

“Start from the beginning. Tell me of the _ljå_.” He sipped and waited, watching the internal battle wagging in the woman bound by chains to the wall.

Outside the cell, Y/N’s two guards waited along with two others. All four listened with rapt attention, knowing they could be called on as witnesses to Ēostre’s confession before their queen.

“You weren’t there on that cursed world,” she murmured. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

“You’re wrong. Heimdall showed all of us, and I was there when Sváfa returned. I was the one who held her when she cried or screamed the scream of the damned for doing what she must to stop those she loved.”

“But you didn’t live it!” she snapped. “I did! I cut those creatures apart. I figured out how they worked. I did that! But did I receive any recognition for my work? No!”

Loki arched an unamused brow. “So because you felt slighted, you betray your Queen? Your King? All of Asgard?”

She lifted her head and bared her teeth again. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

His fingers twitched, and she shrieked in pain. “Watch your tone, _pet_.”

She hung panting for a moment before speaking again. “No, not because I was overlooked once, but because I was _always_ overlooked. I’d been a priestess for ten years. I was the best, but when the time came to choose a new High Priestess, I was dismissed outright. Freya denied me the chance to be a Valkyrie by refusing to allow me to _see_ , then added fresh insult when the time of choosing came, and I was cast aside again!”

“The Norns grant your soul-sight, nor Freya,” Loki huffed. “And if you weren’t chosen as High Priestess, you were likely unworthy of the position.”

“Lies!” She jerked against her chains. “Freyja has been meddling since the beginning! It should have been Gunborg who was Queen, not Tove’s worthless spawn. Gunborn would have saved Yakaway! She would have stopped the _Sjeletyv_. She would have saved our family, but Sváfa stole her place and then lost the battle!”

“You and Gunborg were from the cursed world?” Loki murmured as her reasoning began to grow clearer. “How did you come to Asgard?”

“We were gleaned by the Jegere when the Valkyrie came to Yakaway. Our parents were so impressed and pleased they wanted _both_ of us, but when it became clear I was meant for the temple, not the Valkyrie, they were less impressed. Magic was frowned upon on Yakaway and using magic more so, but Gunborg would be a warrior just like our father, and they couldn’t have been prouder. Then Gunborg found her sjelevenn.” Ēostre barked a laugh. “I couldn’t even be good enough to _be_ a Valkyrie, yet she gets to be reborn to it over and over again?” She gave a disgusted snort. “I had no plans on helping the _ljå_ when I found her that last day. The battle was lost. I was lost. I hated _everything_ and everyone and had decided not to go back. I was going to stay on that world and end it. I wasn’t even scared. Just tired of my mediocre life.

Then I found her, feet from her ship, trying to drag herself onboard. I told her not to bother. She’d never make it off world before Odin destroyed the planet. She told me if I helped her she’d give me the secret to life and all I had been missing.” A smile crawled over her cracked lips. “You think all they knew was how to extend their existence, but it was so much more. So I helped her, and she gave me more knowledge than I could have gained in five lifetimes.”

“How?” Loki asked.

“Direct transfer. Her mind to my mind. Once she was away, I hurried back to camp, caught the last ride out, and began to plan. It took years to sort through everything she’d given me, then more of experimentation to discover the substitute for Dragon bones. Sjelevenn bonds are such powerful magic. They've sustained me for centuries.”

“And Sváfa?”

Hatred filled her eyes. “I wanted her gone, out of the way. I wanted her _dead_ for all she’s done, but then she found her sjelevenn,” she sneered, “and I knew if I killed her she would only return. Her bond was the strongest of them all. I found I could sustain my soul and keep it bound to Asgard through sjelevenn bonds, but bodies still age. Without Dragon bones, that was not a problem I could work around, until the day I watched Helgi die.” She laughed softly, an insane note to it. “I wanted to punish Sváfa for not saving my world, my family. I wanted her to suffer as I have suffered. It was easy to poison Heðinn against his brother, twist the knife deeper and deeper until his hatred was like a cancer eating him from the inside. When Helgi killed Hróðmar on the battlefield, I found the perfect opportunity to make Sváfa suffer. I knew she’d return, but it was worth it to watch her scream and cry and wail over Helgi.”

She laughed, and the sound made Loki feel physically ill.

“Watching her suffer, I knew exactly what I could do to make it worse. To truly punish her for all she’d destroyed in my life, and to get back at Freyja for making a mockery of me.”

This he knew from her memories. How she had Heðinn get Helgi’s sword back, then used the blood of an innocent child to create the curse that kept Y/N out of Asgard, but one thing was still missing. “You said the child was yours. Who was the father?”

Her lip curled back. “I had to gain Heðinn’s confidence somehow.”

More bile filled his throat. Not even he could imagine something so evil. Helgi's brother's son. Sváfa's nephew had been the sacrifice that had locked her out of Asgard. Blood of her soul mate's blood. It was too terrible to be true, yet it was.

“I knew she would be reborn quickly, and I was right. Twenty years after her first death, she was back on the throne, sjelevenn at her side, and I set up another _accident_ for her sjelevenn.”

“You hated her so much?” Loki murmured.

“She was Freyja’s chosen. Her favourite daughter. Twenty more years and there she was again, back on the throne, sjelevenn at her side, and that time, I put two arrows in her heart, and my curse came to fruition.” Her smile was blissful. “And when her soul tried to return to Asgard, I used that power to change bodies for the first time. Oh, the strength of that magic!”

“And every time her soul tried to return and couldn’t… she was reborn on Midgard instead,” Loki murmured.

“But not right away,” Ēostre snickered. “It took so much power to change bodies; she lost a life. Sometimes I let myself age through the years if I was in a position of power, other times I’d change bodies after only a few decades, always tapping into that bond.”

Loki paced away, sickened by her actions. “To what end?” She smirked but said nothing. “I do not _need_ you to tell me. I could torture it from you or simply take it from your mind. It will save us both time and effort if you just speak.” When she remained silent, he sighed. “Very well.” A flicker of his fingers and she was screaming, her voice echoing back from the stone walls.

When he released her, she hung limp, panting, then spat blood on the floor. “They were supposed to turn her.”

“Who?” he asked, already fairly certain.

“The Hounds,” she snapped. “Gunborg has been waiting to challenge for Queen for a thousand years, but Odin and Thor wouldn’t give up! They kept waiting for that bitch to come back, and it wasn’t like I could tell them why she wouldn’t be returning. So I looked in on the _ljå_. She introduced me to the Hounds, and I gave them Sváfa’s scroll so they could track her on Midgard.”

“The substance they injected Y/N with?”

“The _ljå_ taught them how after I explained how Valkyrie magic worked. It was meant to return her memories. It took _years_ to finalize that plan fully, and once again, the Norns or Freyja ruined it all!” She balled her hands into fists and jerked on her chains. “She was supposed to be reckless! Call the Valkyrjur to her and damn herself in the process, but she couldn’t even do that right!”

“You seem to be labouring under the impression that Sváfa is stupid. I can assure you she is far from that.” Loki returned to stand before her. “She would never use the Valkyrjur for personal gain, even if it was to save her sjelevenn. Your plan was doomed to fail from the beginning. All you did was push her into the arms of her strongest sjelevenn yet.”

She howled in rage and thrashed against her restraints. Loki waited her out.

“She should have died the minute she returned to Asgard!”

“Clearly you’ve underestimated her and overestimated your own skill for she did not.” And Loki would never reveal the part he had to play in that.

“It’s her sjelevenn. The super soldier.”

Loki only arched a brow. “Is that why you were intent on having Sengali seduce the Sergeant in Valhalla? And why your blood curse was so _ridiculously_ easy to cleanse?”

“Easy!” she snapped.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Child’s play. It was nothing but a ruse to see Rogers and Sváfa removed from the keep, but I’ve yet to figure out what this has to do with the Sergeant.”

When she said nothing, he raised his hand and arched a brow, and finally she spat, “He was going to be my sjelevenn!”

Loki froze. “How? Why?”

“Why do you think?” she huffed. “I’ve burned out every bond but Gunborg's and Sváfa _'s_ keeping myself alive all these years. I needed a better plan. I needed a sjelevenn like him!”

“Why?”

She sneered at him, rolled her eyes, and spat more blood on the floor. “Are you so blind, God of Mischief that you can’t see what they are?”

Loki frowned, unable to comprehend what she wasn’t saying. “Evidently.”

“You fool. A valkyrie lives an extended life, and her sjelevenn’s extends to follow it. Only death parts them, but what if her sjelevenn is the one with the extended life? How long could a Valkyrie live with a mate that didn’t age?”

“You’re saying the Captain, and the Sergeant are ageless?” He’d wondered, as had Thor, at the extent of the lifespan the two might have with the serum in both keeping their cells at a perpetual state of perfect health in which they did not age or renew unless damaged, but he hadn’t been sure. It appeared, she was.

“Such a sjelevenn would be a powerful one indeed. I could have bound myself to Barnes and been as ageless as he.”

“All you needed was a Valkyrie body and Sváfa dead,” Loki murmured. “The curse on their room wasn’t to see them out of the keep. You were trying to kill her. You needed her bond to take Sengali’s body so you could forge the connection with Barnes.”

She laughed an insane sounding bark. “Sváfa was supposed to call us to her. We were supposed to arrive on Midgard against the will of Odin and for her personal gain, take her for trial, and execute her for her crimes, but instead, she comes out better, faster, stronger than ever! Freya you bitch!” she screamed at the ceiling.

“Her death would have allowed you to switch to a Valkyrie body, and once the Valkyrie had come to Midgard, you could make an excuse to return for you sjelevenn.” The words rolled off his tongue like acid, tasting foul in his mouth. “Instead, we come here with Barnes in tow, handing him to you on a platter, only to find Eira is his true sjelevenn and foils your plan again. And they bonded so quickly. You really do have terrible luck. Fortune has made you its fool,” he chuckled, disgusted but also mildly amused.

“I could still have used their bond if the Sergeant hadn't been so… _aware_ of his scroll.”

“Yes, well. Barnes has always had a way about him.” The man's sixth sense about danger had even impressed Loki on more than one occasion.

A slight noise came from the hall behind him. Loki paused for a moment before turning and gliding across the room as he gathered his thoughts, then returned to stand before her, legs spread and arms crossed, his back to the door.

“And the Einherjar? What role do they play in all this?”

She looked up, and her gaze darted to a place over his shoulder then quickly back to his face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come now. This isn’t the time to lie to me when you’ve been so forthcoming already. We know there are far too many warriors in Valhalla, many who don’t belong. Why are you gathering them? Who is working with you?”

Another quick dart of her eyes to the place behind him. “I think we’re done now.”

Loki spun around as three women threw a net of golden chains at him.

***

When you returned through the gates of Valhalla to the Valkrjur, it was to find Thor waiting for you.

“Sváfa.” He bent to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Thor? Why are you here?”

“Sif. She told me everything, but I think we need to speak…” His voice trailed off, his focus narrowed his eyes, and he looked you over from head to toe. Then his face cleared and a smile of such excitement and joy spread over it, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You are-”

“Yes!” you cut him off. “But it’s a secret for now.”

The hug he gave you lifted you off your feet. “I’m so happy for you!” Then he kissed you square on the mouth. When he set you down, your knees buckled, causing Steve and Bucky to catch you by the elbows.

“Woah, head rush,” you murmured, a blush burning through your face.

“Do I need to punch _him_?” Steve all but growled when he pulled you into his side, glowering at Thor.

You patted his chest. “God of Fertility, remember? That’s just his way of blessing the babies.”

“Twins!” Thor squealed before grabbing Steve away from you. Thankfully, Bucky was there to keep you from falling on your ass. “There will be such celebration when you announce!” Thor was pounding Steve on the back as he tried to hug the life out of him. “And such virility, Captain, to produce two babes! Sons or daughters of Rogers! All of Sváfaland will rejoice. All of Asgard will rejoice!”

Bucky chuckled in your ear. “Is there a reason he appears more excited than you are?”

“God of Fertility,” you muttered, like that explained everything. “He gets incredibly excited around babies. He’s like a big teddy bear all cuddly and cooing. It’s both amusing and embarrassing how sickeningly sweet he gets. I’m sure he’d midwife if the women would let him.”

“Sif didn’t tell me your good news,” Thor was saying, having released Steve enough to allow him to breathe.

“She didn’t know,” he wheezed. “We found out after she left when Y/N fainted.”

Thor immediately turned to you in concern. “Are you ill? Do we need to get Loki? Should I send for palace physicians?”

You held up your hand. “Saw Loki, he’s who figured it out. I’m fine. We just… had a bit of an issue last night, and I didn’t eat as well as I should have this morning.” The look you gave him told him not to ask questions until later. “Now, why are you here?”

“Sif and I spoke at length and she made an excellent point. We need to talk privately.” He eyed the waiting Valkyrie.

“Thor.” You rubbed your temples. “We don’t have a lot of time. Gunborg and her group of Valkyrie have been filling Valhalla with the Hydra dead.”

Thunder filled his face. “What?”

“It’s true. We spoke with one of the men from the Triskellion incident. He was brought by accident,” Steve said. “He said my old _team_ is here. Rumlow and the others. Thor… it sounds like they’re going to try and open the Ragnarok doors, release the Einherjar, and try to take over Asgard.”

Thor stared at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Impossible! Only Gjallarhorn can open the Ragnarok doors.”

“And we thought the only way into Glaðsheimr was through Valhalla, but evidently that’s wrong,” you muttered which immediately sobered Thor.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, suddenly tired. “If the souls Gunborg and her cronies were delivered to Glaðsheimr the traditional way, Balik and Baldi along with Ekheart would have a field day. I don’t know what those men are being told, or how they’re getting through, but Ama is carrying the soul of the man who’s given us some of our answers. He doesn’t belong here and has chosen to be released. It makes me wonder how many others are living under similar misconceptions. What did Gunborg promise them? Renewed life if they fought for her?”

“Fought with her to what end?” Thor asked. “Control of the Valkyrjur? She would never gain control of the Valkyrie that way.”

“Asgard. I think they want to rule Asgard,” you murmured.

Again he broke down in guffaws and chuckles. “That would be suicide to attempt such a coup.”

You reached up and smacked him on the shoulder. “Think for once instead of dismissing us! Your father brought me back because he believed the darkness in the valley would spread until he would do what must be done. Why else would Odin be that concerned _unless_ he foresaw some of this?”

He sobered once more and went quiet. “Still, to contend against us; Father, Loki and I. The Warriors Three. Lady Sif. Heimdall. The entirety of the guard. Against what? Two thousand Valkyrie and eight thousand warriors? The outcome is certainly in our favour.”

“And if they didn’t have to contend with three gods?” Bucky grumbled. “They took down your brother once before with those chains of theirs. Why couldn’t they do that with you?”

Understanding dawned in Thor’s eyes. Then lightning whipped across the clear sky and clouds began to form. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“They already have,” you murmured. “Come back to the keep, Thor. Let’s see if Loki’s gotten what he needs from Kerse, Ēostre, whatever. I can’t do anything about Gunborg until she returns.”

“Hm. I should have let Loki disembowel that Garry fellow when he wanted to,” Thor sighed.

“Maybe.” You headed down the path, Steve keeping step, his hand gentle but present on your back. “I’ve asked the ones from before, the ones worthy of Valhalla to do what they can should the doors open. If, by some chance, they manage to make that happen, then what?”

Thor fell in on your opposite side, causing Bucky and Eira to step back and follow at your heels where they could still hear. “According to Odin, the magic of the hall remains intact until the last man exits. Then Valhalla and Glaðsheimr become no more.”

“And the men? If the doors open and they’re killed inside the hall?” you asked.

Thor shook his head. “I do not know for certain. It was never intended for them to remain within Valhalla once the doors were opened. All were meant to leave and do battle with Surtur’s forces.”

“What about weapons?” Steve asked. “I know you’re not supposed to have weapons in Valhalla, but Moore said the men from Hydra have Earth weapons in Glaðsheimr. Guns and likely other things. Could be grenades and who knows what else. We can’t get inside the compound to take a look.”

“That is a moot point. None of your Midgardian technology will work here.”

“But a gun isn’t a computer, Thor,” you said. “It’s just mechanical moving parts.”

“It is still foreign technology. Glaðsheimr was meant to provide hand to hand weapons the same as what we use here. Any projectile weaponry, unless crafted on Asgard with metal mined here and already imbued with this world's inherent magic will not work.”

“Even if it’s made by a magic land?”

He glanced back at Eira. “Even so. For all Glaðsheimr is attached to Asgard, it is a pocket dimension outside this realm. It is, and is not, part of Asgard. The axes, swords, and bows created in Glaðsheimr are compatible with this world. Midgardian weaponry is not.”

He sounded one hundred percent certain, but you would still be cautious. “If that’s the case, Ragnar’s odds just improved significantly.”

You arrived in the courtyard at the back of the keep and were about to take the steps when the tingle ripped up your spine, and you spun to search the sky. “Rider!”

The others turned with you to look as the tear opened up, allowing Gunborg and her sjelevenn to enter from parts unknown. Her pegasus, a brute of a stallion, landed snorting and pawing at the ground, ears pinned back and teeth bared. You could see why Ilsa and the other novates wanted little to do with him.

“Seize them!” you commanded as she dismounted.

Gunborg’s sword rang as she drew it. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Already Ama and Brynhildr, and three of the on-duty Valkyrie were circling them. When Gunborg’s mount lunged, snapping teeth at Brynhildr, she brought the flat of her sword down on his nose and made him squeal.

“I hope the mares pound you bloody,” she snarled.

Then a bellow of challenge rent the air as Hemme charged into view. Brynjar leapt from the stallion’s back, and the Valkyrie surrounding him moved quickly out of his path when the pure white pegasus answered by spinning on his hindquarters and going for your black.

In the same moment, Ama lunged for Brynjar and brought her sword to his throat. “Drop your weapon, Gunborg.”

“You dare threaten my sjelevenn?” the woman hissed.

No more than a few yards away, Hemme and the white came together in a deadly clash. Bigger by hands, your black had her white in size, but Gunborg’s steed was older with all the knowledge of the herd behind him. Hemme had only that which his mother had imparted, but she must have been one hell of a mare.

Ama lifted her chin. “I will slit his throat if you do not comply with the Queen’s commands. You are a traitor to all we stand for. I would shed no tears over it.”

“I demand the right to challenge for Queen!” Gunborg roared as she threw down her sword.

Dust rose around the legs of the two fighting stallions. Teeth flashed, and hides grew red from gouges and bites. Then Hemme spun and planted his hind feet in the white’s shoulder, sending the white stumbling.

You stepped around Steve who immediately swept his arm down in front of you. “That is your right. You will have the chance to do so _after_ your sister Ēostre's trial.”

“Trial?” Gunborg whispered, her face ashen. She didn't even try to deny having a sister.

You turned your attention to the stallions even as you replied. “Did you think her so cunning she would escape punishment for what she has done?”

The white righted himself quickly and lunged for Hemme’s throat, but Hemme reared and twisted away, bringing his front hooves down on the wing joint of Gunborg’s stallion. The sickening crack of the wing breaking was followed by the scream of agony from the white, but it seemed only to spur him on as he lunged again, hoping to find purchase for his teeth in the big black’s hide.

Hemme squealed when sharp teeth slashed into his shoulder and bucked, turning away to plant his hind feet in the white’s chest. The white coughed, winded, and that’s when Hemme struck. In a move faster than any horse could enact, Hemme spun on his hind legs, dug in, and charged with his powerful hindquarters straight into the white’s shoulder. The force knocked the white pegasus to the ground, his broken wing flailing, as Hemme followed him down, teeth flashing white in his dark muzzle to snap them into the white’s throat.

The white squealed and thrashed, kicked and screamed, turning his white coat red, and finally went still when Hemme tore a chunk from his ear. Only then did the black heave himself back to his feet and step back to shake the dust from his wings and his hide.

Gunborg’s mount laid there a moment longer before rolling to his belly where he heaved great breaths.

“What the hell did I just watch?” Bucky murmured, eyes wide and staring.

“It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally two stallions don’t get along, and they end up fighting it out for position in the herd. From what a few of the novates had to say this morning during our rounds of their lessons, this has been building since Hemme’s arrival when he ousted Merrion from his stall,” Eira explained. “According to Ilsa, the head mare visited the barns before she returned to the valley. She’s new to her position, young and yet to take a mate. For a while, it was believed Merrion held her fancy. Then Hemme returned.”

“Fighting over a girl. Of course,” you sighed. “Gunborg.” You turned back to her as more Valkyrie arrived to assist the defeated stallion and clean and tend to both their wounds. Hemme looked incredibly pleased with himself as he preened and pranced back to the barns. “Your sister is accused of crimes against both the Valkyrjur, Asgard, and against me personally. She will stand before the others and be judged. Those who aided her will also be judged.”

You saw the moment she realized she was backed into a corner. “You bitch. I challenged you!”

“And I answered. At present, the traitors in the Valkyrjur take precedence. As _you_ assisted a known enemy and prisoner of Asgard to escape this world, you too will be held for questioning and a decision made by your peers. We also have questions for your sjelevenn.” You glared at Brynjar. “And his involvement in the attempt made to cause serious injury or death to mine.”

“He looks fine to me,” she sneered.

“That’s because you keep underestimating him,” you smirked.

She lunged, but Frey was there to slam her fist into Gunborg’s temple, knocking her out.

The woman giggled. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“All of you will die soon,” Brynjar growled, glowering at them one by one.

Brynhildr snapped her fist into his temple. When you arched a brow at her, she smirked. “I’ve always wanted to do that. He’s an asshole.”

You chuckled softly and turned to head inside. “Well, truss them up and haul them down to the dungeons.” Already May and Frey, Ama and Brynhildr were removing weapons from the unconscious pair.

“If you try them both for treason, does that mean she _can’t_ challenge you for Queen?” Steve asked softly, sounding concerned.

“She can, yes. Anyone has the right to challenge at any time, and technically she already did. I’m skating the line by not immediately answering the challenge. However, if the current ruler of Asgard or I believe there is another matter that takes precedence, we can press pause until the matter is settled.”

“I still think you should just gut them all and be done with it,” Bucky grumbled.

“So says the assassin,” you teased and made him smirk.

“It'd be real easy, Y/N. Smooth. No one would ever know it was me.”

“Except for all of us,” Eira snickered.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Now, why you gotta go and be like that, kitten?”

You chuckled as you led your way down the stairs into the dungeon where the cells were, hoping Loki would have some answers.

The two bodies in white slumped against the wall made you gasp before charging forward. “Loki! Jesslyn! Magret!”

***

The net of chains went straight through his avatar as Loki appeared behind the three women and drove a knife into each heart, making sure to silence Ēostre before she could give warning. Then he nipped out into the hall where Jesslyn and Magret were being held at sword point by the two Valkyrie who were previously standing guard with them. He appeared between them and plunged two more daggers through the traitor’s throats, pulling both bodies back from Y/N’s guard before the yanking his daggers free and side-stepping the arterial spray.

“Well, that appears to be five traitors down,” Loki smirked. “If you ladies would be kind enough to remove that nasty bit of chain from the cell. I’d rather not repeat my last stay here.”

“Of course, Prince Loki,” Magret said. “I would have called out, but they took us by such surprise we didn’t even have a chance to struggle.”

“How did you know?” Jesslyn asked, staring at him in wonder.

“Hm.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Fool me once, darling shame on me. I refused to be fooled twice.” Loki turned and walked back into the cell where he released Ēostre’s lips. “Did you honestly think that would work a second time?”

She ground her teeth but said nothing.

“What’s that?” Loki leaned forward, cocking his head. “No quippy comeback?” He tsked and watched as Jesslyn and Magret heaved the chains from the floor and exited to return them to where ever they belonged. “Did you think I wouldn’t know the ease with which you were divulging information was a ruse?”

Again she simply bared her teeth, glaring at him with eyes full of hatred. “I will kill you soon.”

“You’ll be dead long before me you mewling qui-” The shout of his name drew him to the door to find Y/N, Rogers, Thor, Barnes, Eira and a handful of Y/N’s guard rushing toward him. “Everything is fine.”

Y/N looked from him to the two dead Valkyrie at her feet. “Really? Really, Loki?”

“They assaulted your guard, darling. Held them captive while those three,” he waved at the ones inside the cell, “attempted to chain me again. Your women are returning the chains to their rightful place, and quite honestly, I figure that is five fewer women to stand trial.”

“Attempted?” Y/N smirked.

“Mm. Unlike some people, I never fall for the same trick twice.” He cast a smug glance at his brother and returned within the cell. “Ēostre has been most informative. The why is quite fascinating. And we were just about to get to the Einherjar. Care to watch?”

“Let’s see if her answers align with those of her sister, and the men we spoke to in Glaðsheimr,” she murmured.

Ēostre’s eyes widen when Y/N mentioned Gunborg. Sure it was a lie, but only Loki knew that for certain.

“Gunborg would nev-”

Loki flicked his fingers, and she went rigid as a fresh scream stole from her throat.

“Loki,” the Captain said, his brows pulling together.

The God of Mischief threw him a look full of derision.  “I assure you, your grace, _she_ is no different than Elektra. She is, in essence, if not form, a _Sjeletyv._ Have no pity for her. Especially as I have come to understand the reason behind how well the curse she set upon you worked.”

“Why?” Y/N asked.

It didn’t show in her voice, but he could see the trepidation in her eyes. “The child she murdered was both hers,” he looked to Steve, “and that of Helgi’s brother, Heðinn. The blood ties are strong, hence the power of the curse.”

He watched the Captain reel back as if Loki had struck him a physical blow. “Y/N’s nephew?”

“And the nephew of your soul, if not blood in this life,” Loki nodded.

“The depth of your crimes seems to know no limits!” Thor bellowed.

Loki only had eyes for Y/N and Steve as she turned into him and lifted her hands to his face. No words passed between them, but an incredibly intense conversation happened with nothing more than locked eyes and emotions playing across their features.

When Y/N looked to him again, Loki murmured, “They were both gleaned for the Valkyrjur from Yakaway.”

“What’s a Yakaway?” Barnes asked.

“The name of the cursed world,” Y/N whispered, pain lacing her tone. “Ēostre, why didn’t you ever say something? You or Gunborg.”

“We revoke all ties to the past when we become Valkyrie, is that not the oath? I should have been _unfeeling_ when they slaughtered my family like cattle,” she sneered.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t speak of it!” Y/N shouted. “Had I known, don’t you think I would have sent for your family? Done everything possible to get them out!”

“You cared nothing for anyone but the ones you arrived from home with. The _sisters_ who were closer to the Queen than any of us could ever hope to be! How selfish were you? You are no queen of mine and never have been!” She jerked against her chains as if she wanted to lunge forward and tear Y/N’s eyes out.

“She’s been the instrument of your sjelevenn’s death every time, and yours your last life,” Loki stated when it appeared Y/N was about to feel remorse for Ēostre’s fate.

“What?”

There was the deadly growl he knew and relished. “Mm. The poison your first life was her doing. Same the second. And she put the arrows in your heart your third life.”

Y/N lunged, but the Captain caught her and lifted her off her feet. “You horrendous bitch!”

“Easy, darling. We have more questions,” Loki smirked.

She calmed enough for Rogers to put her down, but he didn’t take his hands from her waist. “Tell me about Hydra?" Y/N demanded. "Why are you filling the Einherjar with the _worst_ souls imaginable? And how are you getting them past the gates without Ekheart or the wolves interference?”

“I want to see my sister,” Ēostre muttered.

“She’s unconscious. Answer my questions,” Y/N snapped.

“I want to see my sister!” she shrieked.

Loki raised his hand, but another landed on his arm.

“Wait,” the Captain murmured. “There may be another way.” He pulled _Randulfr_ from its sheath and walked around them to stand before Ēostre. “Do you know what this is?” he asked quietly holding out the sword.

“You’re going to threaten me with a sword when not even _his_ methods are working?” Ēostre scoffed, nodding at Loki. “Good luck.”

Steve remained unphased, but Loki could practically taste the intensity of the magic surrounding him, and when he looked down at Y/N, her eyes were full of glee.

“The sword is called _Randulfr._  It belonged to Hurgid, the first King of Sváfaland. It was fashioned from the tusk of a boar created by Odin’s brothers with the express purpose of killing Odin. It holds the power of three Gods, and while I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it yet, I can do this.” He swung the blade up and levelled it at Ēostre’s chest. “What’s the purpose of Hydra being in Valhalla, and how did you do it?”

Loki watched her fight for but a moment before the words were tumbling from her lips. “We have a deal with Hydra. Their men come to Valhalla when they die so we have loyal troops when we force the Ragnarok gates open and seize control of Asgard. Then, we promised to use the Valkyrie on their behalf to remove the Avengers and assist them in taking over Midgard. Getting them into Valhalla was easy when Gunborg figured out a way to have Merrion open a tear directly into Glaðsheimr. Once he could do it, so could the other pegasi.”

“How do you intend to open the Ragnarok doors?”

Again she fought the compulsion before crying out, “Brynjar has a horn! I made it through magic to open the doors.”

“Why?” Y/N finally asked. “Why all of it?”

This time it didn’t take the sword to see her speaking an answer. “Because I despise you and everything you are. Because Freyja is a hateful, spiteful, wicked goddess, who needs to be destroyed. Because we should be ruling over everything! But mostly,” she glared at Y/N with eyes full of madness, “because I could.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her face unreadable before she turned for the door. “I see. If you freely give up the names of the others who are helping you, I will see your death is quick and painless.”

That seemed to stun the priestess as her eyes widened in surprise. “You can’t kill me! I’m not finished! I’m meant to be immortal!”

It was Y/N who stopped at the door, but it was Sváfa who looked back. “You are no more immortal than a flea. Before the sun sets on Asgard this night, your life will end.”

Her eyes flicked to Loki who bowed to her in understanding. “Whatever it takes,” he murmured. “I will know every detail within the hour. Would you like me to take a turn with the others?” he asked as Y/N’s guard dragged Gunborg and Brynjar into cells further down the hall.

“No. I will ask my questions where all can hear the answers. And what we have from Ēostre will be more than enough to condemn the others.” She gave a regal tilt of her head and walked away with careful, measured strides.

The others might not see it, but Loki could. Cracks were forming in the mask of strength Y/N wore. When Rogers made to pass him, Loki reached out and caused the Captain to pause. “Steve…”

“I know,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of her.”

One by one they exited the cell until only Loki remained. He flicked his fingers, sending the three bodies to the cell across the hall before turning back to Ēostre.

“Now,” he purred. “For the finale.” Not bothering to ask, he laid his hand on Ēostre’s head, and simply took what he wanted.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language
> 
> Song: I'll Be There by Jess Glynne

* * *

 

Steve followed close behind as Y/N climbed the stairs. It appeared the weight of the world had landed on her shoulders, but when he thought she would head for the privacy of their room, she didn’t. She turned down a familiar hallway and walked straight into her office where she went to the desk, sat, and began to rifle through papers.

He shot a look over his shoulder at Bucky who gave a short nod and turned to speak with her other guards. Then Steve glanced at Thor. The big Asgardian turned to the wall of scrolls and books and pretended to ignore the room at large. It wasn’t quite what Steve meant, but Thor had said he needed to speak privately with Y/N.

Quietly crossing the room, Steve rounded the desk and set his hand on the back of her chair. “Baby?”

“Steve.”

She didn’t look up, nor did she stop rifling through papers he’d already organized. “Y/N, sweetheart, stop.” He made to drop his hand over hers only for her to pull away.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “If I stop…”

He forced her chair around and dropped to a knee before her. “I can feel your heart, baby.”

Her hands shook as they landed on his shoulders then balled into fists. “It hurts, Steve. It hurts so bad!”

“I know, darlin’.” It made his throat ache how hard she was fighting back the tears. Gently, he took her face between his hands and wiped away the few that had escaped to track down her cheeks. “I know, but all this isn’t on you. It’s on her. Them. You are not to blame for anything that happened. Not on Yakaway. Not after.”

“I need all of this to be over, Steve.” One hand slipped down his chest to then drop and press to her belly, the other up to curl at the back of his neck. “I can’t… I can’t do _this_ without knowing it's over.”

She was full of anxiety to the point her stomach was a ball of acid churning in his gut. He laid his hand over hers on her abdomen and shushed her softly, drawing her down to let their foreheads rest together. “It’s all gonna be okay, baby. We’re gonna get through this together, just like we get through everything. And when it’s all over, we can focus on us: you, me, and these two. Maybe I’ll see if Tony can get us that island again. We’ll spend another week in the sun, just the two of us.”

“I’d like that,” she sighed. “But after we’ve straightened everything out here.”

“Of course.” He stroked her hair. “Anything you need.” And he meant it — every word.

The churning settled and the pain around his heart lifted away, releasing some of the heaviness he felt lying on her. “You've got this, min vakre skjoldpike.”

Her fingers slipped up to card through his hair. “Thank you, sjelevenn,” she whispered, her lips a tease of pressure before they firmed over his.

He sighed into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it but a loud clearing of throat broke them apart.

“While I enjoy a hearty makeout session, when you have a moment, my queen,” Thor chuckled

“I may punch him yet,” Steve grumbled, but Y/N laughed, and her heart lightened even more. For that, he could forgive Thor the interruption.

“Makeout session? How very Midgardian of you, Thor,” Y/N smirked. Then she sniffed delicately and the grin she sported widened to extremes. “How intriguing it is that you smell so strongly of Lady Sif's perfume. Perhaps you were likewise engaged before your appearance here?”

“Drat,” Thor muttered, his shoulders hunching in before he turned to face them and strode toward the desk. “We have not made a public announcement, so keep it to yourself, Sváfa.”

“About damn time,” she snickered. “She was making moon eyes at you last time I was alive.”

Thor rolled his eyes and sat across from her with a flop. The chair protested but ultimately held up, though Steve made a mental note not to try it after Thor left and to sit elsewhere when needed.

“Moon eyes. Bah!” Thor scoffed, then his eyes flicked to Y/N's. “Really?”

She shrugged, but her smirk never wavered. “What did you need, my King?”

Thor looked over his shoulder when the women entered bearing platters of food and jugs of ale. “Best wait till all are settled.”

“Close the door, Oda,” Y/N murmured, frowning at Thor.

Jesslyn handed Thor a tankard of ale, then offered one to Steve, and a third to Y/N he quickly intercepted. “No drinking.”

“Steven, it's ale, which is in no way like alcohol on Earth. We are all raised on it, and it neither harms nor dulls us in the womb. Your children will be fine,” Thor explained.

“He's right, Steve. Ale is basically water here,” Y/N smiled up at him.

“Well, I wouldn't go that far,” Thor chuckled. “It _is_ still ale.”

Steve looked between them, frown present on his face. “I don’t like it.”

She plucked the mug from his hand. “I assure you it’s perfectly safe, and if you’re going to get all wiggy about what I’m eating, you and I are going to have extreme differences of opinion.”

“What’s that mean?” he asked.

She smiled sweetly up at him. “Touch my coffee and die.”

He arched a brow but chuckled. “Fair enough, but you’re cutting back.”

“I agree to discuss this once we return to a land where there is coffee,” she said, sipping from the frosty mug only to spit it back into the glass. “That tastes foul!” Everyone froze to stare at her as she wiped her mouth. “Are you sure the cask hasn’t spoiled?”

Steve sniffed at his mug, then gave it a tentative sip, then a heartier swig. “Mine’s fine.” He took hers from her and checked it. “Seems okay to me.” But when he returned his attention to her, she was looking a little green. “Baby?”

“What the hell is that smell?” she asked, her hand clamped over her nose. “Oh, crap.” Her eyes darted to the platter on the table. “It’s the cheese.” She shoved out of her chair and began to back toward the window. “Get it out of here!”

“Her sensitivities have arrived,” Thor snapped, rising to his feet. “Remove that!”

Steve followed his girl, and when she fumbled with the latch on the window, he shoved it open himself. “Deep breaths, dollface,” he murmured, rubbing her back.

“Oh, crap this is going to suck serious ass,” she moaned. “I love cheese!”

“I know, sweetheart.” Steve fought not to chuckle. It wasn’t funny, but it was a little at how dejected she sounded.

“I can feel your amusement, Steven!” she huffed. “Just wait until I’m upchucking every morning. You get to enjoy that too!”

He curved his body around hers, holding her close, protecting her as best he could though he knew he couldn’t protect her from what was happening in her body. “We’ll get Bruce to check you out when we go home, and if things get bad, he’ll know what you can take to help.”

“Or Loki will have something,” Thor added. “But for the moment…” The breeze whipped up when Thor’s eyes turned white and raced through the open window, clearing the lingering scent from the room.

“You are not going to be able to keep this a secret for long, my queen,” Ama said, smiling gently and with sympathy.

“Ugh, I know,” Y/N sighed. “Soon.”

“It would be difficult to dispute your condition after that incident,” Magret chuckled. “Oda filled us in on what we missed,” she said, nodding toward Jesslyn. “And as before, we still choose to serve, my queen.”

Jesslyn nodded her agreement. “What you had to do to survive Kerse’s meddling was necessary.”

Y/N sighed in relief, and Steve shut the window. “Thank you. All of you.” Then she shot him a glance. “Guess you get your way.”

Steve shrugged. “I’d rather you didn’t have to suffer for it.” He led her back to her seat, but sat first and tugged her down into his lap. He caught Bucky’s eyes again, and a glass of water appeared seconds later in front of his girl.

“Thanks, Buck,” she smiled.

“No problem.” Bucky shot her a wink and went to wrap Eira up and drag her down into a nearby chair, who had no problem snuggling into him.

“Alright, Thor. What did you need?”

For the second time, Thor dropped into the same chair, and though it protested, it held up. Steve randomly thought it must be one sturdy seat.

“When Sif and I spoke, she made an interesting point. You are of two worlds and two loyalties now. Y/N and Sváfa. Of Earth and Asgard. When you return to Midgard as I know you will, your guard will go with you.”

“Of course. As they should,” she tilted her head in agreement, ignoring the rustle of excitement around the room.

“But Sif also saw the loyalty and love that is growing in your people.” Thor nodded to the women stationed around the room. “If you go, more will wish to follow you.”

“Thor! You know I would never-”

He held up his hand, cutting off her denial. “I know. But you announce you're with child; they will not let you leave without a fist of wings at your back. Without trying, you will use them for personal gain. They will assist the Avengers to keep you from feeling the need to fight. The will run to put themselves between you and danger, and the Captain and danger.”

“Now wait a minute,” Steve frowned. “I'd never ask anyone to go where I wouldn't.”

“That is the point, my friend. You would not need to ask. They would simply go.”

“He's right,” Brynhildr agreed. “Where you go, our Queen will want to follow. She is the shield to your sword. If keeping her safe means we fight in your stead, your grace; then we will fight.”

“So what? Do you want me to… to abdicate?” Y/N asked softly, her heart breaking in her chest.

“No!” Thor gasped. “Of course not! I'm not so blind to the workings of the universe not to see the Norns have put you on this path through Freyja for a reason. What I'm proposing is I grant you, Sváfa, daughter of Tove, adopted child of Odin, autonomy over your Valkyrie. You, Y/N, as long as you live and rule from the throne of the Valkyrjur may direct and call to battle your women where you see fit.”

Every mouth in the room dropped including Steve's.

“Thor… you can't… we've never…” Y/N stammered.

“This decree is only for you, Y/N. Should a Fullmakt or another sit on the throne, control of the Valkyrjur will revert to Asgard.” Thor smirked at them. “I do still hope should it become necessary you will answer my call.”

“Of course I will! The Valkyrie belong to Asgard first and foremost.” But Steve could feel the shock running through her and gently rubbed her arm. “This… this is incredible. Steve.” She looked up at him, her ethereal eyes the widest he’d ever seen them. “Do you know what this means?”

“What?” he smiled as her excitement grew.

“Hydra's in for one serious ass whooping,” Bucky snickered.

Steve chuckled. “I guess they are at that.” Then Y/N started to laugh. “What's so funny?”

“This is exactly what Garry wanted! Me to use the Valkyrie for him. It's so backfired!”

Her giggling set him off, then Bucky and Eira and Thor, and soon everyone was laughing. The mirth lasted and died slowly with everyone wiping their eyes and smiles that were bright and genuine.

When Loki appeared at the desk side, Steve didn't even startle.

“It appears I missed the party,” the God of Mischief pouted.

“Not by much,” Y/N smiled. “You've gotten it all?”

“Every last heinous detail. I've also triple locked both cells and the chains binding the three. There will be no escape, no matter what they try.” He picked up her full mug of ale and drank it down.

When her stomach rolled at the sight, Steve set his hand over it. “You know any good potions for food sensitivities?”

Loki snapped his gaze down to Y/N. “Aw, darling. So soon?”

“It's cheese, Loki,” she whimpered, her lip quivering dramatically. “I love cheese.”

She squeezed out a tear, and Steve bit his tongue to keep from laughing at her wrapping a God of Asgard around her finger. He'd never seen Loki make that soft face before. Two gods, he supposed, when he glanced at Thor and found a sad, sappy face there as well.

“Here, darling. Take this.” A small vial of pink liquid shimmered in Loki's hand. “It should keep food from smelling overly strong for a day or two.”

“Thank you, Loki.” She plucked it from his palm and chugged the liquid, then smacked her lips. “Mm, strawberry. Yum.”

“Hm. I didn't think of it before, but your children will now be immune to all poisons as well.”

“Say what now?” Bucky asked.

Loki waved a dismissive hand. “It was necessary. Poison has been used repeatedly to assassinate them both. I will not allow it to be successful again.” Then he frowned at Y/N. “Forgive me. That is likely why you have been ill and developed food sensitivities already. It was too taxing on your system. But what wonders these children will be to survive both your battle with the Ijå and my tonic. Very strong indeed.”

Steve hadn't thought of it either, and with that thought came the one that Loki could have unknowingly killed his children. The terror of the idea had him turning his face into his girl's hair and tightening his grip. He could have lost them and never even known they existed. Soft and warm, her hand landed on top of his and squeezed gently, a little offered comfort in their less than private moment.

“When I call the Valkyrjur together, will you be able to contain Gunborg's co-conspirators?” Y/N asked Loki.

“I shall. The five I killed earlier are nearly half of her crew. The other seven are now known to me. I shall see them in chains shortly after.”

“Good.” She turned to look at Ama. “Call everyone to court. The hearing begins in one hour.”

***

The hour passed much too quickly as you sat and listened to Loki detail the extent of Ēostre and Gunborg's crimes.

You'd sent Brynhildr and Jesslyn to the temple to retrieve the tattered remains of the burnt out scrolls that once were the markers of sjelevenn bonds. They would bring them and the false copies to the throne room as proof. They were also to inform the High Priestess that she and her followers were commanded to attend. No one would be allowed to remain blind to what the two sisters had wrought in your absence.

The only worrisome part was Loki did not know where the false Gjallarhorn was. Kerse had made it and given it to Brynjar, but she had no memories of its current whereabouts.

It could be anywhere, and worse, be used at any time.

As this was a formal proceeding, the women of your guard had made sure your armour was pristine, the cloak of dove grey and Marok wolf pelt flowed from your shoulders, and your crown sat upon your brow.

You didn't bother with makeup. This wasn't Asgard where a queen should be beautifully made during a court proceeding, but the Valkyrjur where every moment could become a challenge.

Dagger hilts gleamed at the tops of both your boots while many more short blades remained hidden beneath your arm guards and armour. Glemsel hung at your side, humming gently against your hip as if the anger and pain burning in your gut were known to it. As if it too lusted for the blood of the woman who had taken everything from you and twisted it to her most hated advantage.

Kerse, Ēostre, a once proud priestess of Freyja would not see another day alive.

The typical murmur of voices filled the hall when you arrived with your contingent of Gods and men and guards at your back. The doors were swung open, allowing you to see the throne at the far end raised on its low dais and backed by windows. You couldn’t quite make out what was beyond those windows with your partial sight, but you knew the vista like you knew your name. The peaks of snow-capped mountains would spear into the blue, flirting with clouds in all their magnificence.

The pelt of the Smedlheim draped over the throne in all its glory, the size of the animal apparent with how it had been tucked into the seat yet still spread out over the floor, flowing down the steps and onto the stones where the paws ended but feet away from the gathered Valkyrie.

“Jesus, Steven!” Bucky hissed, yet to voice his opinion on the matter.

He didn’t laugh, but you could feel Steve’s amusement tickle in your belly. He got a kick out of freaking Bucky out.

“Father had the head and antlers returned to Asgard where they will be mounted as a trophy for your first hunt. It was well done of you, Captain.” Thor patted Steve’s shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, knowing how Steve felt about sport hunting, but in this case, it was kill or be eaten, so he was trying not to let it bother him.

On the seat of your throne sat Freyja’s helm, and beside it rested a newly acquired shield to replace the one lost in the cave of the Ijå. You headed toward it with determined strides, your arrival causing the room to slowly fall silent until the only sound was boots on stone. Your steps muffled when you crossed the thick pelt. You’d show it off for a few days, then have it taken to your room where it would keep the cold out of your bed this winter.

As you lifted Freyja’s helm and hung it from the back of your throne, the others spread out around you. Steve to your right and Bucky to his, while Thor took to your left and Loki waited at the foot of the stairs, one foot resting on the first step. Your women ranged themselves as they saw fit around you, a showing of strength and power no one within the room could fail to recognize.

“Are all in attendance?” you asked Ama, looking around to find Willa and her women off to the right. She wore the tall headdress of blackened horns and feathers while the rest of the main floor was a sea of white on white. The second-floor balcony was row upon row of blue novates, backed by white garbed valkyrie. Even the household staff in their black dresses watched from the second floor.

Ama cast a glance at a pair of women who nodded, likely having been asked to do a head count as the people entered. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Good.” You turned to face the hall as you had the first day. “Sisters! I’ve gathered you here today to bear witness to the trial of two of our own. Long has there been darkness growing in the heart of the Valkyrjur. Now, that darkness has been revealed.”

You nodded to Loki and sat, trying not to tear holes in the Smedlheim pelt with your talons.

The God of Mischief grinned, then waved a hand. Kerse, Gunborg, and Brynjar appeared bound and kneeling before you with Kerse at the head of their small triangle. “Kerse, priestess of Freyja, sister to Gunborg, Valkyrie of Freyja, born Ēostre more than a thousand years ago on the cursed world. The lost world. Yakaway. You are charged with treason, murder, conspiracy to commit murder, harbouring, adding, and abetting the escape of a prisoner and enemy of Asgard, colluding with an Ijå to learn their secrets then helping her escape to breed her poison on Midgard. You are charged with the wanton destruction of sjelevenn bonds, and the use of blood magic to further your existence, and with the willful corruption of Valhalla to create an army of men to use to your agenda. How do you plead?”

The room erupted into chaos as the charges rang out. No one could quite believe what they were hearing.

“Silence!” Thor bellowed quieting the room instantly. “There is proof?”

“There is.” It was Willa who spoke, striding forward to pull a light piece of linen off the broken scrolls, now blackened and crumbling to pieces. The others, the false scrolls lay beside them, pristine but useless. “Today when a new sjelevenn bond was to be formed, I was very nearly the catalyst for another broken bond.” She lifted her head and looked out at the room. “All these years I thought the ritual needed blood magic to form the bond, but Queen Sváfa and his Highness Prince Loki have informed me of my error. Freyja forgive me.”

“How did she do it?” cried a voice from the second floor.

“Loki,” you murmured, asking him to give the retelling. He, better than anyone, would be able to recite the details as they now lived in his head.

While you listened to him talk, you watched those around you grow more and more disgusted and horrified at the extent of Kerse’s depravity. It was all so outrageous, it was difficult to believe, but the proof was right there in the charred remains of the past sjelevenn bonds. Again their loss brought tears to your eyes. They all deserved so much better than what they'd gotten.

By the end, nearly every face in the room was wet, but two surprised you more than most. Tyr and Lore, two of Gunborg’s staunch supporters and the ones you’d removed from training the elder novates looked stunned and sickened with the revelations.

You wondered if they’d been following blindly where they shouldn’t. Soon enough, you would know.

When Loki finished, wiping his mouth as if the words had tasted bad coming out, you rose to your feet. “Ēostre, do you have anything to say in your defence?”

Her eyes were thoroughly mad when she lifted her head to glare at you “Go to hel.”

“You first.” You looked up to the women gathered, the host of the Valkyrie laid bare, and asked, “What say you, my sisters?” Almost in unison, they turned their backs to Kerse, even the novates whose vote did not yet count, turned away from the woman who had betrayed everything they were working so hard toward.

“The Valkyrjur has spoken,” you nodded slowly. You’d had to explain to Steve and Bucky that, though the Valkyrie was not a democracy, in cases like these, they all had a right to speak their peace about the crimes and the person charged with them. To ask for mercy by looking on the accused, or deny it entirely by turning their back. In the case of a split vote, it would fall on your shoulders to pass the final sentence, but honour was the lifeblood of a Valkyrie.

This, all of it, was without any of that.

“As your crimes are without parallel, the evidence damning, and you have no defence to give, I, Sváfa, daughter of Tove, adopted child of Odin, Queen of the Valkyrie and Freyja’s chosen daughter, hereby sentence you to death to be carried out forthwith.” Glemsel sang with bloodlust when it cleared its sheath.

“I challenged for Queen! I demand you answer my challenge before you execute that order!” Gunborg screamed, struggling to stand.

You paused, having known it was coming. “Even if you win, the sentence on your kin is passed by the law of the Valkyrjur. You cannot stay her execution with a challenge of Queen.”

“Then I demand a trial by combat! Let the Norns decide her fate!”

The _smug_ on her made you want to punch it right off. “Fine. I accept. But it should be known I am with child.” You could almost feel the rush of air when every pair of lungs in the room inhaled in surprise, then broke out in cries of dismay.

“Call it off!”

“The Queen mustn’t fight in her condition!”

“King Thor, stop this!”

“Kill the _Sjeletyv_ whore and the traitors and be done with it!”

You kind of liked that last one but held up your hands for silence. “Gunborg and Brynjar have their own crimes to answer for. Or do you deny sending your sjelevenn to bait a trap for mine?”

“Yes, I deny it!” Gunborg snapped.

“Lie,” Loki murmured, lazily cleaning his nails with a knife.

You glanced beyond him. “Yavi, come here.”

She strode forward, cast a disgusted look at all three of the people in chains, and bowed before the throne. “My Queen. How may I serve?”

“Tell everyone what you told me when you returned with the Smedlheim.”

She turned to the gathering. “My patrol went in search of his grace and the hunt. When we found them, his grace and the All-Father had already continued on, but one look at the carcass of the stag was all it took to know the animal had been brought down by arrows, not the cat. The belly had been slit open to allow the entrails to warm in the sun. It would have drawn in every predator for leagues. It was bait. A trap set by one who would know such things.” Yavi turned hard eyes on Brynjar. “I believe, you were a trapper with your father this life before Gunborg found you, or am I mistaken?” Brynjar only glared at her.

Whatever hesitation she’d had about speaking out appeared to have vanished in the light of Kerse’s deception. “And did you investigate?”

“I did, my queen. I found broken Valkyrie arrows and the footprints of a man near that of a pegasus.”

“Thank you, Yavi,” you nodded your dismissal.

“If I may be so bold, your majesty? Any Valkyrie who could so turn her back on her life, her calling, and her sisters, should have no right to challenge for Queen.” Yavi glowered at Gunborg. “She would _never_ be mine. I would turn in my wings before following her.”

“Noted, Yavi. Unfortunately, the law stands,” you murmured. “Though you also assisted a known enemy of Asgard and Earth to escape justice, then fled with him to… just where did you take Garry? Or is he back to Connor now?” you asked Gunborg.

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Another lie. You truly are terrible at telling them, pet.” Loki waggled his dagger at her. “I know you know of who my dear queen speaks because I’ve seen you in your sister’s memory speaking with him. Time to tell the truth, or I’ll act in kind to you as I did her.”

“Loki,” you murmured.

“That’s right, Sváfa. Call off your _dog_ ,” Gunborg sneered.

“Careful, careful.” Loki was suddenly behind Brynjar, tapping the dagger against the bound man’s cheek. “My bite and bark are equally devastating.” A drop of blood welled and trickled down Brynjar’s cheek.

Hatred filled Gunborg’s eyes. “I took that Midgardian piece of shit back where he belonged and dumped him on his people. He’s been utterly useless to us, but knew too much. He couldn’t stay here.”

“Then why not kill him?” you asked.

“Wasn’t feeling it,” she shrugged.

Loki frowned but didn’t outright call it a lie. A half-truth maybe?

“And where is the false Gjallarhorn?” Thor asked.

“Hidden,” Brynjar smirked.

Loki slapped him in the face with his dagger again. “Where?”

“Enough of this!” Gunborg snapped. “I have called for a challenge _twice_ and been ignored. I ask for a trial by combat, and you claim to be pregnant! I say she’s lying! Is this the Queen you want? One who breaks your laws when it suits her purpose? One who refuses to fight a challenge because she knows she will lose?”

“Sváfa does not lie,” Thor growled, sending thunder rumbling over the roof. “I can already see both souls growing in her womb, and have given my blessing. Do you doubt my word, woman?”

“I think you would say whatever you wanted to, to save your pet queen!”

“Enough!” you roared. “Twice today I’ve thrown up or nearly thrown up out a window, ale tastes like ass, and I can’t stand the smell of cheese!”

“She loves cheese,” Steve smirked.

“Yes, I am pregnant. Yes, your challenge is accepted-”

“My Queen! You can’t-”

You brought the tip of your sword down hard on the floor, putting a hole in the nice pelt in your anger and sending a violent wave of energy out that swept Gunborg off her feet and set the others reeling. “Shut your pie holes!”

Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder, then encouraged you to sit. “My wife will not fight. I will.”

“Unacceptable!”

Steve glowered at Kerse. “You get no say. I will stand as champion in accordance with the laws set down by Rathbone, Queen after Lantha. A queen may choose to call a champion to fight on her behalf in the event of a challenge that cannot - or will not - be deferred. So you either get me, Gunborg, or you wait a year, but your sister will still be dead before the sun sets.” He'd had Eira show him the passage for this reason, and clearly, memorized it.

He had his Captain face on. Fuck it was hot. It shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was really hot, and you couldn’t help the flutter that tickled your belly. He shot you a raised brow, but his face remained the same.

“I accept.”

“Gunborg!” Brynjar hissed.

She shook her head. “If he dies, she will fade in a matter of days, taking their spawn with her. Kerse survives and so will we.”

“One last order of business before we move this outside,” you murmured and looked at Loki.

“Ah, yes.” He waved a hand, and seven more women found themselves bound and kneeling to one side. “The rest of the traitors.”

The surprise on Tyr and Lore’s faces quickly turned to horror, as did the faces of those knelt beside them.

“My queen! My queen, please! We didn't know! We didn't know the extent of their betrayal!”

The speaker, or at least the one to first find her voice, was none other than Medina. “What did you think you were doing, Medina?”

“If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut, Medina!” Gunborg growled.

“She told us the men, the ones we were sneaking into Valhalla were special. They were men worthy of their place, but we had to take them in secret because they were an elite force. It was a secret mission. We weren't to make the other men jealous because these new ones were… better than them.”

“How could you think _they_ belonged in Valhalla! How wrong is your sight!” you snapped.

All of them flinched.

“Gunborg was who blooded us as maidens. She taught us what to see. We didn't know,” another murmured.

You weren't sure you believed them and shot a glance at Loki. The God gave a half shrug and partial brow raise as if to say, ‘Meh, maybe.’

“And where are the others?” asked Tyr.

“The other five are dead after they failed in their attempt to rescue Kerse and chain me a second time,” Loki growled.

“If you agree to subject yourselves to Loki's questions, answering each truthfully, I will consider ejecting you from the Valkyrjur instead killing you where you stand.” You couldn’t - wouldn’t - keep them on as Valkyrie. You would never trust them again, and you doubted the others would either. Led astray or not, they had made their choices.

“All of this is pointless,” Gunborg huffed. “Release me so I may kill your sjelevenn and finish this.”

Steve’s hands curled into fists, but he said nothing.

You rose to stand beside him. “Yes. It’s time to finish what you’ve begun. Take them to the yard. Once we are there, you will be released, and your weapons returned. When only one stands alive, it will be over.”

Let the battle for the Valkyrjur begin.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, bloodshed, violence, more language
> 
> Song: Undefeated by Daughtry

* * *

 

Those who were in chains remained that way as all changed location, leaving the throne room to enclose the field the mock battles were held in to watch the authentic one about to occur. You figured they’d need the room, Steve and Gunborg. This was going to be one hell of a battle. A super soldier and a Valkyrie? You almost wished you could record it to show the others.

Steve held your trembling hand tightly. Yes, you were afraid. This wasn’t going to be easy, and when you reached the field, you pulled Steve off to the side and laid your hands on his chest.

“Sjelevenn…” croaked hoarsely from your throat.

His hands lifted to frame your face. “I’ve got this, sweetheart.”

“She’s going to expect you to charge in. You’re a man. She’ll expect you to use strength and brute force to win. You have to hang back. Get a feel for her. She’s not going to be like anyone you’ve ever fought before.”

“Baby, I know. I’ve watched you fight for weeks.”

You closed your hands into fists over his heart. “She’s had hundreds of years to improve. This isn’t a fight you can lose, Steve.”

“I know what’s at stake, Y/N. I’ve got this. I promise.”

His heart was a strong, steady beat beside yours; the only anxiety you could feel was your own. He felt confident in this, the same confidence he felt when going into any mission, and you felt your heart slow and calm.

“I believe in you, sjelevenn,” you whispered, rising up to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He tugged you closer and tilted his head to seal your lips together and snake his tongue into your mouth. A series of catcalls erupted to your right, and you flipped Bucky off without breaking the kiss.

When Steve pulled back, he rested his forehead on yours. “I’ve got this.”

“I know you do. She will favour her right hand, but she can switch so if she loses her shield, don’t be surprised if she goes left with the sword. She’ll punch with her right if she does. Valkyrie aren’t taught Krav Maga or kickboxing. It’s why they were so shocked by what you did to Brynjar. You’re reach is longer, but she’ll think she’s faster, lighter, so you’ve got that advantage-”

His mouth descending on yours cut you off again, not lifting until he’d stolen all the air from your lungs. “Darlin’,” he purred. “I’ve. Got. This.”

You looked into his eyes, so bright blue, and knew. “Yeah, you really do.”

He had this.

***

Bucky’s half smile tugged his lips as he watched them.

“You’re not worried?” Eira asked, sneaking her arm around his waist.

“Nope,” he chuckled, grinning at Thor.

“The Captain showed but a fraction of his talent last eve. I believe the only time I have ever seen him engage fully was when he sparred with myself or you,” Thor agreed.

“Yeah, punk’s always a little afraid he’s gonna hurt someone. Even when we go on missions he’s pretty contained,” Bucky snickered. “Unless someone pisses him off.”

“Well, let us hope he gives himself free rein to his aggressions this time,” Loki murmured.

The seven women in chains stood next to the fence under guard, along with Kerse and Brynjar. Loki had released Gunborg who stood inside the field across from her sjelevenn, speaking with him, her hands on his face.

Bucky thought even with how she entertained others she really did love Brynjar in her way. If she felt even a fraction of what he did for Eira, she couldn’t help but love him.

“Twenty of your earthly dollars the Captain strikes first,” Thor challenged.

Bucky snorted. “He won’t. So you’re on.”

“I say fifty that he draws first blood,” Loki smirked.

“Done!” Bucky chuckled.

He knew Stevie better than anyone and was pretty sure he knew how Steve was going to handle this. He had no doubt Steve would win, but he also knew Steve wasn’t stupid. He would need to know how fast Gunborg was, how hard she hit, and what her weaknesses were. That would take a few minutes where he didn’t try so hard.

“Are you three _betting_ on the outcome?” Y/N snarled, appearing at his elbow like magic.

“Yup,” Bucky snickered. “I'm about to make seventy bucks.”

She rolled her eyes before turning back to Steve, her hands running over his armour. Steve smirked at him, causing Bucky to grin.

“You gonna show her a bit of the old Stevie today?” Bucky asked.

“Damn right,” Steve nodded. Then he sank his hand into Y/N's hair, kissed her hard, and walked away to gracefully heave himself over the railing with one hand and a quick hop.

The red white and blue shield went from his back to his arm before he unbuckled the sword belt at his waist, tugged his sword from inside and tossed the belt toward the fence where Loki plucked it out of the air.

“Smart,” Eira murmured. “He fights unencumbered.”

Steve was smart. More so than many gave him credit for, but then Steve didn’t show it off like Tony or Bruce. Steve’s smarts ran toward battle plans and combat. He was a scrapper, always had been, and that had translated easily into his role as Captain America.

But the Steve that was emerging in this new land and new role was someone Bucky had only ever caught glimpses of. It made him wonder about these reincarnated souls. How many of his other lives came through in Steve? Was this man striding toward the center of the arena Steve Rogers? Or was this Steve of Sváfaland, heir to Hurgid, a King of Asgard?

Soon enough, they’d find out.

***

Steve arched his neck and felt it crack and loosen. This was it, the final showdown. What happened next meant life and happiness, or death. There were no do-overs, no second chances. 

One lived. One died.

He planned to be the one living when the dust settled.

He gave his wrist a roll, adjusting to the weight of the sword. It was well-balanced, fit his hand, and felt like an extension of his arm. Still, he wasn’t used to wielding one. It wasn’t his natural state, but the shield on his arm fit like a second skin.

Across the field, he watched as Gunborg spoke with Brynjar and Kerse. Then his attention shifted to Y/N, and the people gathered around her. Her heart still jumped with nervous energy, but the anxiety and worry were gone.

She believed in him. That’s what she said. She believed in him, and though he already knew it, it was nice to hear.

The shine from Gunborg’s helmet going on dragged his attention back to the battle at hand. Then she was striding across the grass, sword in hand. She bashed it once against her shield as if psyching herself up.  

He shook out his sword arm, rocked up on his toes, and felt the same surge of adrenaline begin to flow through his veins. It was a comforting feeling, like an old friend. He tilted his head and observed Gunborg as she approached.

She had a loose way about her, a grace he hadn’t noticed before, but then he hadn’t been paying attention. There was determination in her face, but also arrogance. Pride. Confidence.

His fingers tightened around Randulfr’s hilt, the leather of his gauntlet squeaking. He took a deep breath, and another, and let his arms hang loose, reminding himself this would likely be a marathon, not a sprint.

Her gaze darted to his shield. “Your shield is metal?”

“Got a problem with that?” He showed her the edge and how thin it was.

She shrugged. “It means little. A metal shield will not stop me from putting my sword through your heart. Are you prepared to die, human?”

A smirk curled his lips. “Are you?” Steve asked. “Freyja still sees my face.”

A flush of red filled her cheeks. “I care not what that false Goddess sees or doesn’t.” Her sword swept up. “My sword longs to taste your blood.”

“Do you always talk this much? Or am I just special?”

Anger flared in her eyes. “Come at me! Or are you too much a coward?”

Steve snorted, knowing she was only trying to goad him. “Afraid of a traitor? Hardly. You know, I asked Sváfa for the honour of executing your sister, but she’s keeping that pleasure for herself.”

Her temper exploded with a scream of rage, and she lunged for him. Steve barely avoided the sword strike to his head, ducking beneath the blade and out of reach. _Damn._ She was faster than he expected.

***

You gripped the rail and closed your eyes, finding the fight easier to see without looking. Gunborg slammed her shield into Steve’s, and he fell back, retreating before her. Metal screamed on metal when her sword then met his shield, and Steve stepped back again.  

Blow after blow rained down, driving him back, forcing him to block and brace, Gunborg growing more confident with each passing moment. Then her shield skidded up Steve’s and over the top, catching him in the mouth with the edge and snapping his head back.

You grunted as pain exploded through your mouth and tongue, causing Bucky to step into your spine and wrap his arm around your waist.

“He’s fine. You know he’s fine,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

“Still fuckin’ hurts,” you grumbled.

Steve spat blood but didn’t bother to wipe his mouth. “That’s one,” he growled and swung his sword for the first time. It sent shards of wood spraying when it cleaved a chunk out of Gunborg’s shield.

“Ooh, he’s really going all out,” Bucky snickered. “And I’m now seventy bucks richer.”

You wanted to laugh when Thor and Loki groaned, but you were desperately trying to keep your heart out of your throat so as not to distract Steve.

The ground Steve had lost retreating before Gunborg's assault was quickly growing smaller as she struggled to adjust. Swords clanged and clashed. They came together at the pommel, the two combatants pushing against each other.

“You cannot defeat me!” Gunborg sneered.

“Wanna bet,” Steve growled.

They broke apart and exchanged fast strikes and blocks. It was nearly a blur, swords swinging and striking. Almost too fast, Gunborg jerked back, a grunt coming from her throat as red marred the white of her left thigh.

“Now we're even,” Steve smirked.

Gunborg burst into motion, going from a standstill a few feet away to a run, plowing into Steve with her full force and sending him flying. He landed on his back, but kicked up on his feet and deflected her next blow with his sword.

Then a kick to her shield sent her flying.

Gasps rose from the watching Valkyrie at the sheer strength. When Gunborg landed, she landed hard but rolled to the side to avoid the sharp tip of Steve's sword.

“Fuck, he's fast,” you murmured, surprised by it even though you already knew it.

“He break a sweat yet?” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah.” You could smell it. “A little one.” Unlike Gunborg who was dripping.

Quick back to her feet, Gunborg stabbed and slashed, putting Steve on the defensive again. But Steve was like a dog with a bone. He had her rhythm now, and nothing was slowing him down. Suddenly her thrust was blocked, and Steve slammed his shield into hers. It knocked Gunborg back a step. Her next strike clanged when it connected with the shining star.

Steve gave a little smirk, turned his arm, and drove the edge of his shield into the center of Gunborg’s wooden one. It cracked in two, straight down the middle.

Her gasp of surprise was loud. For the first time, Gunborg looked scared. She shook the shield from her arm and switched her sword to the other hand.  

Then, Thor stiffened at your side. “Heimdall?”

You glanced at the King of Asgard. “What is it?”

“Show me,” Thor snarled still speaking with Heimdall.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but it clearly wasn’t good. When a second gasp rose, this time from the watching crowd, you snapped your attention back to Steve and Gunborg. He’d dropped the shield.

“What the hell?” you muttered.

Bucky’s arm tightened. “Fair fight.”

“That is foolish,” Loki grumbled. “He should be finishing this, not playing fair.”

“He’s proving a point,” you sighed. “To everyone.” He would beat her on even footing because he could.

***

“You are foolish to drop your shield,” Gunborg sneered.

“I’m not going to need it.” Steve charged, ready to end this fight. He’d sparred like this with Heimdall, and from what he’d seen, Heimdall was better with a sword than Gunborg.

She met him, blow for blow, for the first half dozen strikes, then he increased his speed and his strength, forcing her back, making her give ground as each blow became harder and her eyes grew wider. He swept her sword to the side and punched her square in the nose.

Gunborg stumbled back, sent reeling, but her attention never left him, and she recovered quickly.

***

“Shit!” Thor hissed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, a thrill of pleasure coursing through you at seeing Gunborg’s blood run down her face.

“The compound on Midgard is under attack.”

You snapped your head around. “What?”

“Thousands of armed commandos. They are throwing everything they can at the Avengers.”

“Fuck!” you hissed. “Hydra?”

“The Hounds.”

The pieces clicked into place. “That’s what she did with Garry. A distraction. A fight on two fronts.”

“They have asked for assistance. The team is fighting, but they are being overrun.”

“I’ll go,” Bucky said.

“I cannot.”

He looked sharply at Eira. “What?”

“She can’t leave. None of us can until this is finished,” you growled. “She’s timed this perfectly!” You turned toward the battle where Steve was driving Gunborg down the field. Clenching your hands around the wooden rail, you said softly, “Steve… there’s trouble at home.”

He didn’t falter. The only sign he’d heard you was the tightening of his jaw.

***

Trouble at home could mean anything, but Steve would bet his shield it had something to do with fucking Garry.

Gunborg slashed at him, and he turned to the side, avoiding the downward strike. Slamming his foot into her exposed ribs was easy, and she yelped as she stumbled to the side.

“Gunborg!” Brynjar screamed.

He almost felt bad for them. Then he remembered the curse on his girl, the blood dripping from the walls of their bedroom, and the pain she’d suffered finding out about the others now lost to the greed of Gunborg’s sister.

His resolve hardened.

Steve jumped and punched her in the face a second time. She shrieked and jerked her sword arm up in a wild slash he smacked away before driving his heel into her sternum. It sent her sailing backward into the dirt, head over feet.

He charged after her, but she rolled up and back to her feet, her eye now swelling. It surprised him when instead of setting herself, she ran full force at him. She brought her sword up as they clashed together, locking them at the hilt, then punched him twice in the face. It snapped his head back, but he’d been hit harder and drove his fist up into her chin.

She snarled, and her hand was coming back at his face again, but a flash of shine on metal had him jerking back. Instead of embedding in his cheek, the tip of her short dagger dragged across it drawing blood.

“Foul!” Thor bellowed.

Steve caught her wrist and twisted until she dropped the small dagger, easily concealed in her wrist guard.

She let it go easily, a smile of triumph on her face. “And now you die.”

He stepped back, frowned, and wiped the blood from his cheek. She didn’t follow, just dropped her sword tip to the ground and stood there, smug as hell. “What?”

“You never learn. Either of you!” she laughed, smirking at Y/N.

“You poisoned the dagger?” he asked loudly, staring at the blood on his fingertips.

Cries of dismay came from the watching Valkyrie. More like Thor’s of _foul_ and _you have no honour_ filled the air.

Steve only smirked, then smiled, then laughed as he swept his sword up. “Lucky for us, we have friends who do remember. No poison will ever kill me again.” She barely got her sword up before he connected with it, driving her back and nearly to her knees. Every time she left herself open, he put a foot or a fist into the space.

“Gunborg!” Brynjar screamed a second time.

He felt no pity for them, not anymore, and swept his sword up to bring it down like a hammer blow. She blocked, but a pulse of energy ran through his blade. The moment they touched, hers shattered into pieces. Randulfr continued through the arc and drove deep into her shoulder and neck.

Shock rippled across Gunborg’s face.

Steve wondered if it mirrored his. It hadn’t been a conscious act that final blow, but when he yanked his sword from her flesh, the arterial spray spoke for itself. There was no coming back from that.

“No!” Brynjar screamed, climbing the fence and then falling inside, hands still bound, to scramble to his feet and rush toward her.

Steve stepped back as Gunborg fell to her knees. Blood foamed from her lips and saturated the front of her armour. Tears were flowing freely down his face when Brynjar landed on his knees at her side. She lifted a hand to his face, but all she could do was give his cheek a weak stroke before her heart pumped the last of her blood from the gaping hole.

The last time Steve had seen a wound like that, it had been in Germany, and a grenade had hit the man.

“Gunborg,” Brynjar whispered and pressed a kiss to her hair. Then he turned despairing eyes toward Steve. “Kill me. I beg you.”

“What?” He took a step back.

“I have no desire to spend days wasting away for want of my sjelevenn. Kill me!”  

Steve didn’t know what to say. He understood, but it went against everything he was to kill a bound man. “I can’t…” Before he’d even finished, Brynjar was lunging over Gunborg for the dagger she’d dropped and closed his bare hand on the blade.

Then he smiled up at Steve. “This is only just beginning.”

Steve grabbed him by the chains and yanked Brynjar to his feet. “What’s that mean?”

The dying man gave no answer. None was needed when the blast of a horn resounded through the air.

Everyone turned toward Valhalla. Steve ran for Y/N.

***

Ragnar stood before the gathered men. When all had been counted, three thousand had answered his call. All were good men. Proud men. Men who fought with Odin's name on their lips, but Sváfa's in their hearts.

Some had known her longer than he. Some had only recently learned her face after hearing her name for so long. All would give their life to defend what she and the other Valkyrie were trying to protect.

“We hold this hall until the Queen returns! No one leaves Valhalla for the call of a false war!”

Every table in Valhalla had been quickly piled before the doors, negating even the chance of someone leaving. A thousand had been hand-picked to stand within, ready with sword and shield to kill any who tried, while the rest waited in Glaðsheimr, guarding the entrance to Valhalla.

“Ragnar!” Floki shouted from behind the shield wall. “They come!”

He turned to see the host of men approaching and stepped into line between Ivar and Bjorn. “Ready yourselves!”

They came forward packing weapons the likes of which Ragnar had never seen before and slowed to a stop a few feet away.

“You should let us through if you know what's good for you, old man!” one shouted gleefully.

Ragnar recognized him and knew his name. “You are the one they call Rumlow?”

“I am,” he sneered.

He pulled the spare axe from the back of his belt and sent it sailing at Rumlow's head. “The King of Sváfaland sends his regards!”

Rumlow ducked at the last second, allowing the axe to catch the man behind him, seeing that one dead instead.

“Your aim is lacking,” Ivar snickered.

“Watch it, boy,” Ragnar grumbled.

“Who the fuck cares about some King!” Rumlow snapped, raising his odd black weapon.

“My queen! He is her husband after all,” Ragnar said.

“Rogers? Rogers is some fucking King here?” He threw up his hands. “Great. Fucking Captain America is now a fucking King!” His arms lowered a little but remained up with the weapon. “Move or die.”

“We have always been ready to die!” Bjorn shouted causing a roar of agreement to rise from the others.

“You’re funeral,” Rumlow growled and pulled a lever on the black weapon that made it go _click_. He pulled it again and again, finally lowering it to look at it in frustration before throwing it to the side and grabbing a smaller version from his hip he raised and tried the same action with.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, peering at the weapon.

“Problem?” Floki giggled.

“Fire!” Rumlow screamed. All the men lifted their weapons, guns Ragnar thought Steve had called them, and another round of clicking filled the air.

“Well, that was unimpressive,” sneered Ivar. “Our turn. Archers!”

There were seven thousand men seeking entrance to one set of double doors. It was like shooting fish in a barrel when the wave of arrows rose high and came down on the group.

Rumlow let out a battle cry and yanked the axe from the downed man before running at the shield wall like a person possessed. Others soon followed, having brought the traditional weapons of Glaðsheimr with them, and swarmed forward in sheer numbers.

“Brace!” Ragnar bellowed to the semi-circle of warriors holding the doors.

Then, amid his charge, Rumlow stopped, reached behind his back and pulled out a curled horn he lifted to his lips and blew. The sound was near deafening and silenced all as they listened for the happenings in the hall.

At first, Ragnar thought it hadn’t worked, then the creaking of long unused doors began to sound as one by one they started to open, faster and faster, slamming against the exterior of the hall. He glanced back, over the heads of many, and could see sunlight spilling through the cracks across Valhalla’s wooden floor.

“For Valhalla!” he screamed, reaching past his shield to drive his axe into the closest man’s skull.

***

“Oh, shit,” you whispered. “They did it. They gave the horn to someone in Glaðsheimr.” They had almost made it a fight on three fronts.

“Y/N!” Steve skidded to a halt on the other side of the fence. “Is that…?”

“The doors are opening,” Thor snarled.

You dragged your sight away from the hall to stare at Steve in horror. “The compound’s under attack! You have to get home!”

“I’m not leaving you here!” he snapped.

You let out a piercing whistle, one Eira mimicked. “Hemme will take you back. They need you, Steve. They need your help. Heimdall said there are just too many. It’s Hydra, the Hounds!”

He swore a wicked blue streak, anger practically pulsing through him. “Come with me.”

“You know I can’t! I have to stop that!” You pointed at the hall. “Go! Take Bucky and go! I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Steve,” Thor murmured, setting his hand on Steve’s shoulder when he was clearly torn. “Loki and I will assist, Sváfa. The others need you.”

The pounding hooves of two pegasi raced toward you. “Go.” You lifted your hands to his face. “I’ve got this.”

He dropped his head, connecting your foreheads. “I can’t leave you.”

“Yes, you can. Trust me.”

“But… Strike. Rumlow.”

“Steve.” You waited for him to look at you. “I’ve. Got. This.” In the distance, you could hear the sounds of a battle being waged. “Get your shield and go. Hemme will come back for me.”

“We will make sure she stays safe, Captain,” Loki added, holding out the sheath for Steve’s sword when he continued to hesitate.

“We all will,” Brynhildr agreed.

He cast a glance over all your guards, then ground his teeth together and looked a Bucky. “Fuck!”

“Agreed,” Bucky snarled as Steve ran to collect his shield. He turned to face Eira and yanked her close. “You be careful. One bruise. One cut. One hair out of place, and I’m gonna be so pissed, kitten.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair. “That goes for you as well, sjelevenn,” she said before dragging his head down, kissing him hard, and pushing him toward her pegasus. “Do not fall off my mount.”

He said something snide, or possibly just grunted, but you weren’t paying attention because Steve was back at the rail and his mouth was on yours in a bruising kiss that weakened your knees. “What Bucky said times infinity,” he growled against your lips. “You remember what happened the last time I was mad?”

Heat wicked through you like lightning at the reminder.

“Don’t tempt me,” he whispered, pulling back to grasp your chin. “Stay out of trouble, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Same goes for me, double,” you purred. “Now, git! Ragnar needs us.”

Steve jumped the fence and mounted Hemme. With a final look, he and Bucky were gone in a flurry of down-swept wings and a tear in space.

“Get everyone moving to Valhalla! Help Ragnar and his men. Anyone with a skull and tentacle tattoo is our enemy and should not be here!” you bellowed to the Valkyrie waiting for orders. All those in white turned and raced toward the hall, armed and ready for battle.

“Loki, can you see them to the cells?” You nodded toward the seven women next to the fence.

They were gone with a flick of his fingers. “And this one?” He grabbed Ēostre by the back of her neck and dragged her around to face you. There wasn’t even a tear shed for her dead sister.

“Did you think if you remained quiet, I would forget you were there?” you asked, drawing Glemsel from your side.

She held up her bound hands. “Wait. You don’t have to do this! It was Gunborg! All her idea. She was the one who kept pushing me to do more. To find a way to take over Asgard!”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Such lies you tell. May I just break her neck and be done with it?”

“No,” you growled. “For the crimes you’ve committed, I carry out this sentence.”

“I can make you immortal!” she screamed, fighting to step back, get away, but Loki held her fast.

You plunged your sword into her heart. “I have a sjelevenn. I’m as immortal as the Norns wish me to be.” You watched the life fade from her eyes before jerking your sword free. 

"The Will of the Norns... is done," Willa murmured. "We will see to the bodies," she added, her priestesses already going to collect Brynjar and Gunborg. 

Loki let Ēostre's body fall. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” You took off toward Valhalla with your guard hot on your heels and Loki racing at your side. Thor flew on ahead and landed where the rest of the Valkyrjur stood outside the gates. “What’s wrong?” you asked, frustrated to find them milling about.

“The doors won’t open!” someone cried from the front as you made your way forward.

Thor huffed and set his hands against them, pushing with all his might. “They are… sealed… tight!”

“Move!” Loki snapped, striding up beside his brother. "It is part of the false horn's magic to keep us out." He slammed hands of green flame to the doors and lit them up like Christmas. A second later, they flew open, and he waved the others inside.

But you hesitated, glancing up to where Ekheart sat at night, then to the sides of the hall were Baldi and Balik kept their vigil. “I need a minute.”

“Sváfa?” Thor frowned.

You took a deep breath, threw your head back, and howled. Mist rose like magic to either side of Valhalla. Eyes glowed in the fog before both wolves appeared, heads tilted in curiosity.

“The Ragnarok doors have been opened without cause,” you said to them. “Can you close them again?”

The wolves looked from you to each other and back, then turned swiftly on their hindquarters to make their way down the length, one dragging the door away from the wall with scrabbling claws, the other forcing it shut with his muzzle. Then an eagle screamed, and Ekheart landed at the far end where he began using his beak to pry the doors from the wall and force them shut.

“Now, we finish this.” You raced through the gates and beneath the roots of Læraðr. Within the hall men and Valkyrie were fighting. You ran through the skirmishes, seeking Ragnar and his sons.

You ran into Ubbe first. “Where’s your father?” you shouted over the noise, running through the man at his back who would have killed him.

“I lost him when the shield wall fell!” Ubbe cried. “He was still in Glaðsheimr!”

Toward the doors you turned, only to have Ubbe grab your arm. You damn near hit him before his words registered. “Sváfa, I’m sorry. Father told me about…” His eyes darted down and back up. “I’ve let the anger I’ve held for years fester. Forgive me?”

Honesty hummed in every word. “Done.” You gave him a nod, and he let you go. He was an ass most of the time, but he wouldn't be in Valhalla if there weren't something in him that made him worthy.

The fighting was no better outside, and you had to leap so many bodies as you searched for a shape and a scent you recognized. 

A hand grabbed your ankle, and you raised your sword only to drop to a knee beside Ivar.

“No! Ivar!” Blood flowed freely from the wound in his side.

“If this is my last death,” he smiled that same wicked smile, “I am glad to know you are here for it as you were for the first.”

Tears dripped on his face as you bent to rest your forehead on his. “Tell me.”

“It took six of them to bring me down,” he chuckled, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. “But I saw them dead first.”

“Ivar. Don’t do this to me,” you whispered.

“We all die, Sváfa. How many of us... can say... we truly... lived?” he breathed, his hand touching your cheek before falling away.

Hot rage rolled in your stomach when you stood. You looked away from him only to find Ragnar in the battle of his life. You may have lost Ivar. You weren’t about to lose his father and charged across the field, your guard crying out behind you.

The battle cry of the Valkyrie tore from your throat, and you leapt from the ground through the air to land and drive your blade home in the chest of one of Ragnar’s three opponents.

“Sváfa!” Ragnar grinned. “I take it you won?”

“Steve. Steve won.” You jerked your blade free and whirled around him, taking an arm from one man and a leg from the other.  When they fell, you turned and grabbed onto him, relief pouring through you. “Don’t die on me,” you whispered against his ear.

“I make no promises,” he chuckled, then sobered when he drew back and saw your face. “Who?”

“Ivar.” Fresh tears tracked your cheeks.

New ones filled his eyes. “He died well?”

“Very,” you nodded, voice hoarse, and looked away to find your Valkyrie sweeping the field. “It will be over soon.” Surrounded by your guard, you stood with him and watched the wave of women in white disarm or dismember the last of them, forcing them to their knees in surrender.

All but one, who kept wildly swing a sword and screaming.

“Do you know that one?” you asked Ragnar, fresh relief filling you when you found Floki limping up the field, leaning on Hvitserk.

“That is the one called Rumlow.”

You saw red, then white, and blanked for a moment before you awoke to find yourself standing nose to nose with Rumlow, holding his sword arm away from you as you plunged your sword into his belly. “That’s for Steve.”

“Bitch…” he whispered, sinking to his knees.

"That's Queen Bitch," you smirked as you pulled your sword free with a kick to his chest and watched as the life faded from his eyes.

Thor strode over, Loki on his heels, but it was the crack of lightning striking, a gold flash of light that had you looking up to find Odin and Sleipnir.

“All-father.” You offered him a short bow. “The heart of darkness has been weeded out of Valhalla.”

“That it has, daughter. Now I must cleanse it from Valhalla.”

“Y/N,” Thor murmured. “You need to go. The tide has not turned with the Captain’s arrival.”

“How many men do they have?” you asked, knowing Heimdall was keeping him apprised of the situation.

“At estimate, I would say they have five thousand left. The warships and flying assault vehicles are keeping Stark, Wanda, Vision, and the Hulk occupied. They cannot assist on the ground.”

You turned to Oda. “Call the first hundred wings. We leave for Midgard at once!”

Ama strode forward to kneel before Odin. “All-father. I carry a soul who wishes to be released. He assisted in our search for the truth.” She lifted her hand to her heart, and the shining gold orb floated in her palm.

Odin held out his hand, and the soul floated into it. “Be at peace,” he murmured, closing his hand. When he opened it again, speckles like stars floated free, higher and higher until they disappeared.

“Thank you, Moore,” you whispered, watching them go.

From her back, Oda drew a horn and blew three sharp blasts. Women ran from every corner of the battle ground to gather around you. “The first hundred wings are to prepare for battle! We ride for Midgard to aid the Queen’s sjelevenn!”

They gasped and exchanged sharp, worried glances before Yavi bravely stepped forward.

“Forgive my hesitation, I would go in a heartbeat to keep you out of the fight, my queen, but is not that… personal gain?” she asked, glancing at Thor.

“I have granted Sváfa autonomy over the Valkyrie. She may pick and choose when and where to send you as she sees fit. I trust Queen Sváfa to use that power wisely!” Thor finished loudly. “As long as she rules from the throne of the Valkyrjur, she has our blessing and our good will!”

A cry of joy and gratitude rose. Then Yavi was kneeling, and soon the rest followed. “Where you go, Queen Sváfa, so shall we follow!” Another cheer followed, ringing out over the field.

Emotion choked your throat you had no time for and swallowed thickly. “Prepare your wing, Yavi. We ride for Midgard!”

She stood and bowed. “I will see your mounts made ready.”

You nodded your thanks and looked to Odin. The small smile he wore assured you he was not displeased by Thor’s decree. “What will you do with them?” you asked, motioning toward the remaining Hydra men.

“I will cleanse this hall as I should have when my suspicions were first aroused.” From Sleipnir’s back, he drove Gungnir spear tip first into the ground. What was left of the Hydra force, roughly four thousand men, disappeared into dust and floated away.

Maybe it should have shocked you that he didn’t bother to question any of them, but it didn’t. These were not men who should be here. Not only because they didn’t deserve to be, but they were not believers in the old ways or of Valhalla. When you looked around, you noticed even the fallen had vanished into the ether.

“And the rest?” you asked softly. Ragnar, Floki, Hvitserk, and Ubbe you’d seen, but Bjorn was missing and Ivar…

“None were able to leave Valhalla thanks to you, these bravest of men, and your Valkyrie. They should return to life with tonight’s gong, but not even I am certain,” Odin sighed. He drove Gungnir into the ground a second time, and the slain vanished. “I’ve returned them to their rooms within Valhalla. We shall see if they wake.”

“Go now, darling. Your sjelevenn will worry if you do not make it to him soon,” Loki murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Thor and I will join you shortly.”

For the first time since Steve left, you noticed how far away he felt, how quiet the beat of his heart was in your chest and lifted a hand to rub there. “Yeah. We need to go.” You turned on your heel and nearly ran into Ragnar.

“Be safe, my queen,” he murmured. “We only just got you back, and Ragnarok has not yet come.”

You stepped into his embrace. “I will. I’ll be back soon.”

“And bring that husband of yours. He and his friend build good boats,” Floki giggled.

“Sit down before you fall down, Floki. Helga will give you all kinds of grief when next she visits if you don’t,” you huffed, breaking away from Ragnar to run for the doors out of Valhalla.

They needed you on Earth, and you weren’t about to let them down. Besides, you and Garry had an appointment.

He owed you his eyes.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: canon-typical violence, bloodshed, swearing
> 
> Song: The Sound of Silence by Disturbed

* * *

 

Steve didn't like it. The idea of leaving his headstrong woman behind even with two Gods and eight Valkyrie watching over her gave him what he could only call separation anxiety. Still, the team needed him; needed them.

He shot a glance at Bucky, noting the grim face. He wasn't the only one leaving a sjelevenn behind.

“We need to come in a mile out and high so we can see what we're dealing with. You got that, Hemme?” he called to the pegasus, watching the black's ears rotate back to listen before he gave an exaggerated nod and tore a hole into the sky.

It was strange. The last time he’d been so focused on Y/N that Steve hadn’t noticed how the sky through the opening went from star speckled beyond the blue of Asgard to the bright blue of Earth with is spattering of puffy white clouds. He knew the Bifröst was a bridge that took time and distance to travel between one world and the next, but it appeared with the pegasi it was instant.

Once he’d overheard Tony and Bruce discussing ‘folding space’ to move between great distances and now wondered if, somehow through their magic, that was precisely what the pegasi did. Thoughts for another day because when Hemme brought them through to the airspace outside the compound, Steve inhaled sharply.

“Holy fuck!” Bucky barked, sitting on their wingtip.

It was like flying into a warzone. The Hounds must have decided to throw everything they had at them thanks to Gunborg’s prompting. There were quinjets outfitted with guns harassing the compound, and the Hulk was tearing into an enormous warship, while Vision and Tony were chasing helicopters that were chasing Sam.

Wanda appeared to be shielding the main building where Clint was watching her back and sending out arrows right, left and center. He couldn’t tell where Nat was, but with the way people on the ground were going down seeming without assistance, he knew where Scott was fighting.

“Where are the kids?” Bucky called.

“Dunno! I don’t see them.” The second team was nowhere to be found. “Maybe on a mission?”

“Fuck!”

He agreed with Bucky’s assessment. They could have used Smitty and Marcus and their elemental powers, as well as Susan with her ability to teleport, or Maggie and her brainwaves. Faye could have been running point with Grant to watch her back, getting a handle on the field.

Instead, it looked like they were running a little frantic.

“Shit, we need comms.” There was nothing they could do from here. “You ready for this?” Steve called to Bucky.

“Yeah! Going for Wanda?”

Steve nodded then bent toward Hemme and stroked his neck. “Can you get us down there?” The pegasus snorted, then began to climb with hard beats of his wings. “Ah, crap,” Steve groaned, knowing what was coming. “Can you get through Wanda’s shield?” Another annoyed snort.  

Steve turned to look back at Bucky. “You’re gonna want to hold on for this one!” He would have chuckled at the size of Bucky’s eyes if he wasn’t just as terrified.

They climbed high until it felt as if Hemme was dancing through clouds when the pegasus turned his head and whickered. Steve gathered mane between his fingers and tightened his thighs before leaning back, not wanting to be thrown forward when the stallion fell out of the air with him.

Sure enough, once he was set, Hemme executed a wingtip turn into a steep dive that snapped his wings back. Having freefallen out of planes more than once, he was used to that feeling of his stomach rising to sit in his chest, but this was different. The stallion appeared to have the ability to fall faster than gravity. Steve could see why this wasn’t something you did without a saddle.

When Hemme side slipped to avoid a jet, Steve scrambled a little to keep from falling off and looked up to make sure Buck wasn’t plummeting past them sans pegasus. The look of utter exhilaration on his face said Bucky was enjoying this a hell of a lot more than Steve was. It was the Coney Island Cyclone all over again.

Gunfire and explosions went off around them, but the ground was coming up fast. Still, the stallion fell toward Wanda's red magic.

“Hemme?” Steve called when the steed stretched out his front feet. His wings swept up and moments before the stallion touched the barrier the same tear opened, above and below the shield, keeping it intact. Then his wings caught the air like a parachute and swept down hard, throwing Steve forward as Hemme leveled out and executed a running landing on the roof of the compound, where he slowed to a dancing stop inches from Clint.

“Well, damn! That was some landing,” Barton chuckled. “Nice of you to join us, Cap. Though you’re lookin’ a little more rustic than usual.”

Steve took a second to catch his breath before swinging his leg over Hemme’s neck and sliding to the ground. “Yeah, well. Fighting for my queen on Asgard took precedence. How bad is it?” he asked, turning to watch Bucky land in the same manner, then leap from Røyke and press his hands to the stallion’s leg.

“Pretty fucking bad,” Clint murmured, releasing another arrow.

“Buck?” Steve called hurrying toward his friend.

“He took a graze from a bullet. Think it will be okay, but he’s bleeding pretty good.” He reached up and tore the sleeve from his left arm, stripping it down and over his hand to tie around Røyke’s leg.

The pegasus nudged him, rubbing on Bucky’s shoulder as if to say thank you. Then the two stallions turned and ran down the length of the building, lifting into the air and disappearing through a tear before they reached Wanda's barrier.

“He was moving okay. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Steve murmured before turning back to Clint. “Run it down for me, Barton.”

Wanda dropped down beside them. “Steve, Bucky. It’s good you are here.” She held out a couple of comms they quickly inserted in their ears.

“We’re getting our asses handed to us, Cap,” Clint muttered.

“Was that Cap and Barnes falling through the sky?” Tony’s voice quipped in their ears. “About damn time you two showed up.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Where are the kids?”

“Called out. They won’t get back in time,” Wanda murmured.

“I could use some help down here!” Natasha barked.

Steve and Bucky stepped to the edge of the building and looked out at utter chaos. “We need to hold out for a few more minutes. Y/N’s bringing the cavalry.”

“Like… the _actual_ cavalry?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky snickered. “The actual cavalry.”

“Then get down here and help out!” Natasha snapped. “I’m short-handed.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Scott grumbled.

“I cannot leave here,” Wanda murmured. “All civilian personnel are accounted for inside.”

“You're good, Wanda.” Steve shot Bucky a look, got a nod, and glanced at Wanda. “Can you slow us down?”

She gave a sharp nod. “Weapons?”

Steve pulled the sword from his hip and shield from his back. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

“Hook me up, darlin’,” Bucky snickered and shook his head at Steve. “Fucking native.”

Wanda phased Bucky’s weapons through the floor and sent them to him. “It appears you’ve come home with more than you left, Sergeant,” she smirked, tilting her head and tapping her neck.

Bucky grinned, a wash of pink crossing his cheeks. “Yeah. She’s a keeper.”

“Who’s a keeper?” Clint asked, taking out a helicopter firing on the compound. “Stark! You’re slackin’ off!”

“Shut it, Legolas!” A red streak went by, giving the falling chopper a shove to keep it away from the buildings.

“Ready,” Bucky murmured, ignoring Clint’s question.

Wanda lifted her hands, more of her power trickling from her fingers. Steve turned and jumped off the edge of the building, Bucky a step behind. The freefall slowed seconds from the ground when Wanda caught them and set them down gently. A door appeared in her barrier they ran through into the thick of the battle.

Steve hit the first soldier hard enough to send him flying, then white-hot rage rolled through him, momentarily shuttering his vision. “Well, shit,” he muttered.

“What?” Bucky yelled over the noise.

“Y/N’s pissed.” But rage became deep satisfaction, then faded out to a feeling of intense distance, and he knew whoever had gotten in her way would no longer be a problem.

Steve stepped into the battle, and with Bucky at his side, they cleared a swath down the field.

“Holy crap! Is Cap swinging a sword?” That was Sam.

“Looks like two Vikings just showed up to take it to the heathens,” Tony snickered.

“Just keep that warship off our asses till Y/N gets here, Stark!” Steve growled, chucking the shield to ricochet off a dozen helmets before Bucky plucked it out of the air.  

“Really need to get me one of these,” Bucky smirked, chucking it back.

“I’ll see what T’Challa can do,” Steve grinned, slicing his opponents gun in half before punching him hard in the face.

***

The flurry of riders making ready was organized chaos when you returned to the keep, and you glanced at Ama. “Have _any_ of you gone to battle?”

“Not like this,” she admitted. There was a slight tremor in her hands when she ran them down the neck of her pure white pegasus.

You looked up in time to watch Yavi jog toward you leading Hemme and Røyke. Eira gasped and lurched from your side toward her mount, her hand going to the bandage high on his foreleg.

“He came back with a sleeve tied around it. It’s only a graze, and he says he’s fine,” Yavi assured her. “The battle is fierce!” she grinned, her eyes alight with excitement. “Many warships and soldiers. Your side is not faring well according to Hemme.”

As he was currently muttering about sharp things and flying stuff and loud things that went _bang_ , you knew your mount wasn’t overly impressed with the state of affairs at _his_ quiet compound. You patted his chest and checked his tack before swinging up into his saddle where you pressed up to stand on his back and address the women around you.

“Oda,” you nodded to the woman, “get their attention.” She gave one long blast to the horn she carried, causing every eye to turn your way. “Sisters! We go to assist my Midgardian teammates. Your enemy is known as the Hounds of Hydra. They wear the insignia of a white wolf’s head either on their helmets or their chests. Break their weapons! Break their spirit! Drive them back! We are Valkyrie! Show them what that means!” A cheer rose, but you waved it down. “Watch yourselves once you dismount! The pegasi armour will deflect their bullets; your armour will not. We fight for the glory of Asgard!”

“We fight for you, Queen Sváfa!”

Their voices rose and crescendoed on a roar of your name that choked your throat. You’d been so afraid to come home. To have them look to you like this, it was humbling.

You dropped down into Hemme’s saddle and looked to Brynhildr. “The count?”

She swung onto the back of a silver grey stallion. “Thirty Iron Wings. Fifty infantry. Twenty archers.”

“I want the most experienced rider from each unit of ten wings to flank us. Iron and archers left. Infantry right. Let’s mount up. Hemme knows the way; he’ll lead the others. We’ll come in high and a mile out so I can get a good look at what’s happening.”

She nodded and set off down the line at a quick clip, calling out orders as she went. You turned to face your guard. “Cheer up, sisters. This will be fun.”

They all looked at you with shock for a second before grins began to spread as they mounted up around you. A flash of blue amongst the shifting legs of all the stallions caught your eye, then Ilsa was at Hemme’s shoulder, holding up your helmet.

“Thank you, Ilsa.”

She smiled brightly up at you. “May Freyja bless and keep you safe.”

You gave her a wink and slipped the helmet over your head. “Time to go.”

Hemme whickered softly, nudged Ilsa out of the way, and pranced to the head of the first wave of riders. He lunged forward, pushing hard with his hindquarters to launch you into three powerful strides and up into the air with a snap of his wings. He took you up, circling, climbing higher and higher, and you looked down to watch through your other sight as wing after wing rose with you and flew into formation.

The Iron Wings rose first, their mounts the heavy, draft style pegasi, loaded down with extra armour, leg shields, and ship damaging shoes. Valkyrie didn’t have artillery. No, but they had the Iron Wings.

Each wing of riders was nine strong and ran in units of ten, three wings wide by three deep with the final wing taking up a position at the rear like a box with a tail, giving you heavy horsepower of two hundred and seventy riders, flying abreast, three units across. The women, too, bore bigger, stronger weapons than many of their sisters. Most had a double bladed battle ax strapped to their spine along with the swords on their hips.

Next came the Infantry. They, like you, rode with armour, their pegasi more likely to get close to the ground or even fight on it. The fifty wings rose and split into five units, taking up position above and slightly behind the Iron Wings, three units abreast with two units following, giving you a total of four hundred and fifty to deploy on the ground.

Finally, the Archers rose, climbing fast, their pegasi wearing the lightest armour. They archery mounts were sleek, fleet, and light on their wings. They could turn on a dime and flit over battlefields with quickness and accuracy. Their riders wore quivers strapped to both thighs, the cases covered in thin mesh to keep their arrows from falling out during swift maneuvers. They took their position behind you, one hundred and eighty strong, coming up between the Iron Wings and the Infantry.

“Alright, Hemme. Do your thing!”

The tear opened like a rip in the sky, each pegasus picking up on the location through their magic in a way no one had ever been able to explain, gradually making the hole bigger until you were flying through, nine hundred Valkyrie at your back, into the blue sky and soft white clouds of Earth.

Too bad you flew into a shit storm. Smoke, fire, explosions, gunfire everywhere. It was nearly impossible to see what was happening below you, but you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and listened. Then you nudged Hemme lower, dropping slowly as you advanced on the compound.

Three quinjets were pounding the shit out of the compound, coming in hot and firing on the field or at the main building covered in Wanda’s red magic. Six choppers were harassing Tony and Vision, while Sam was doing his best to line them up for Tony’s missiles and not lose his tail feathers.

You were trying to figure out where the Hulk was, then the massive airship came into view past the smoke and made you gasp, “Oh, fuck!”

“Odin’s beard!” Eira barked, as shocked as you were. “That thing is huge!”

“Iron Wings!” you bellowed, causing the three leaders to swoop up and over closer. “Take two units. Bring that ship down and stay out of Hulk’s way. The third unit, split up, see if you can take out the three fast jets. Leave the smaller black ones, the helicopters, to the others unless you can cut off the tail with your ax. Not even our armour will withstand those rotors!”

They each pressed a fist to their hearts and flew off to organize their units. “Infantry!” The five unit leaders flew overhead and circled. “Three units! Dead center of that field. One wave. One line. Give them Hel! The other two, pincer maneuver. Close off their retreat. Go!”

Yavi’s grin nearly split her face. “Yes, my queen!” They pressed fists to their hearts and split off.

“Archers.” You looked to the last two women waiting nervously. “Give the Iron Wings time to clear the sky, then you harass that field and drive them back.”

“Yes, Queen Sváfa!”

“And where are we going to be, my queen?” asked Jesslyn.

“Down there.” You pointed at the compound. “Can you open the same tear as before?” you asked, patting Hemme’s neck.

He nickered, and it flashed into life in front of him, showing you the roof of the compound where Wanda and Clint were holding down the fort. Hemme executed a perfect landing, running to a stop a few feet from Clint.

“You miss me, feathers?” you quipped.

“Brat!” he smirked up at you. “You’re looking as rustic as Cap?”

“And where is Cap?” You hopped up on Hemme’s back to have a closer look at the field.

“Here, Y/N.” Wanda flew over and handed you a comm. “They are assisting Natasha. Your arrival will be most welcome.”

She looked tired, but then it was a big building to keep shielded for who knew how long. You slipped to comm under your helmet and in your ear. “Hey, guys. You miss me?”

“Dammit, Y/N! Cap said you were bringing the cavalry!” Tony huffed.

You chuckled softly and looked up. “Oh, I am. Hey Hulk, baby?”

“Feisty girl!”

His loud booming voice made you laugh. “I’ve got friends coming to help you with that thing. Careful with my sisters and their ponies, okay?”

“Hulk no hurt Valkyrie. Where they come?”

You smiled, already hearing the whistle of sound screaming through the sky. “Look up.”

***

Steve slammed the closest soldier away from him with a backward sweep of his shield arm and stood panting. “Darlin’? Everything go okay in Valhalla?”

“All good, Steve. I made sure and gave Rumlow your regards before I drove my sword through his chest.”

A shock of fear that she’d faced Rumlow went through him in one quick jab, then nothing but intense satisfaction remained. He wasn’t sure if that was his or hers he could feel, just that it was there.

“Rumlow? The fuck!” Natasha barked, her gun going off shortly after.

“Holy hell! Incoming!” Sam bellowed, causing Steve to jerk his head up.

He gasped, having never seen anything like it before. Dozens of white or mostly white winged horses were falling out of the sky, but it was the shining steel covering their chest and legs that made him gape in amazement. They looked like living battering rams, and when they slammed one after the other into the wing of the large warship, it started to crack. Then the first dozens were followed by more, hitting hard seconds after the first set had lifted out of the way. By the time the third wave fell, the wing of the aircraft sheared in two.

The ship swung wildly out of control and went down in the field behind the compound.

“Hot damn!” cried Tony as he flew overhead.

Y/N laughed, sultry and sweet. “They’re going to hit the quinjets too, but we can’t do much about helicopters, Tony.”

“If Vis and I aren’t playing fast and loose with missiles and quinjets anymore, we can handle the choppers.”

“How about giving us a hand, Y/N?” Natasha called.

“She stays off the field,” Steve barked, running to help a couple of outnumbered agents.

“But she’s got the big sword,” Clint muttered. “Why you gotta be so mean, Cap? Let your girl have fun.”

“My girl,” he swiped his sword through two rifles and kicked both men into the middle of the field, “is pregnant.”

“Jesus, Steve. Just announce it to the whole team like it’s nothing,” she huffed.

“What?” he smirked, knowing they’d never let her fight now. “I didn’t tell them it was twins.”

“Steven Grant Rogers!”

“You’re in the shit now, pal,” Bucky smirked. “Hey? Where’s my girl?”

“She’s sitting here getting antsy. I’m sending her to you. With a few friends. Scott, you may want to grow a little so my sister's don't flick you like a flea.”

"You've got it, your majesty!" He appeared further up the field. 

Again Steve looked up, watching Eira fly off toward Bucky’s location as more of that same whistling sound - the air punching past shining silver pegasi hooves - shot by overhead and slammed into the nose of a quinjet when they slowed to fire on Wanda and the compound. It spun hard and fast and exploded when it hit the gravel driveway in front of the compound.

“Damn,” he murmured moments before a horn sounded. A second joined it. Then a third. A fourth answered back from the roof, and he took a deep breath. Help had arrived. The next sound was the battle cry he’d heard off and on during the mock fight, but this time, the yell was deafening as hundreds of white pegasi flew over the field, blocking out the sun. And when the women, also in white, began falling from their backs to land with bent knees only to rise and draw swords they then banged against their shields?

“Okay, I get it now,” Steve chuckled. “That was fucking impressive.”

“Captain! Language!” Stark gasped. “There are fetal ears in play now!”

“Shut your yap, Tony!” Y/N huffed, causing Steve to laugh.

Yavi dropped beside him. “Your grace!” She bowed her head. “Did you leave any for the rest of us?”

Steve flicked his sword toward the other half of the field where many of the Hounds had begun to back up slowly. “Have at it.” 

She gave a wicked grin, followed it with warcry, and ran with eight other women into the fray.

“Did she just call you, your grace?” Tony snickered. “Are you going fancy on us, Captain?”

“You should see the size of his castle,” Y/N quipped.

“Babe!” Steve barked, turning toward the roof and raising his arms in exasperation. “Come on!”

***

“Sucks when someone just spills the beans like that, doesn’t it?” you smirked, watching your women overrun the field.

You listened to him grumble, gripe and generally ignore Tony and Sam, giving him what for, while searching every inch of the field. He may not want you in it, but you had a date, and you were going to keep it.

"Brat?" Clint murmured. "Is that who I think it is?"

You swung your head to the right. "Where?"

Clint frowned. "Shit. He just went Valkyrie."

As soon as he said it, you had Garry's location. The aura you'd noticed when you first lost your sight was present around him again. "Can anyone else see that?" you asked softly, keeping your comm from catching the question.

"Yes." The others all nodded.

"He won't be happy about it, but sisters, that asshole is mine." You nudged Hemme who leapt from the roof ledge and went into free fall before the wind caught his wings.

"Y/N!" Wanda cried out.

You ignored her, Hemme tore a hole in the sky, and you flew through it with your women.

"Dammit, Y/N! What are you doing?” Steve barked when you came out the other side and flew toward the far end of the field.

“What I have to.”

Garry had started all of this, everything, and while, oddly, you were grateful to him for his part in all this, he still owed you for all he’d done. Flying over the field, you could see the devastation. Bodies of both sides littered the once pristine grass. Many of the buildings were in ruins, rubble, or smoking. The hanger where the team housed their aircraft was destroyed.

It was going to take a serious amount of time to rebuild. But right now, all that mattered was the lone woman in white trying to sneak away.

As Hemme flew low over the field, your rolled backwards off his hindquarters and dropped to the ground, taking the jolt in your legs and standing tall in Garry's path.

“Nice! A superhero landing!” Clint laughed in your ear.

“Y/N, I swear to all that’s holy-”

You pulled the comm from your ear and handed it to Ama, the rest of your guard landing in a circle around Garry. “Tuck that in your ear and tell Steven to stop yelling.”

She looked at it for a moment then cautiously placed it in her ear. “The queen requests you stop yelling, your grace.”

You could hear him swear both from Ama’s ear and from across the field, but your attention was wholly focused on Garry. “Nice face. Take it off.”

“My queen.” He, still as a Valkyrie, dropped to his knee. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Garry, Garry, Garry…” you tsked, ignoring the growing anger radiating from Steve as you flexed your fists, talons gleaming, and slowly began to circle him. “You didn’t study your Valkyrie lore, did you? So let me spell it out for you.” You stopped at his spine and bent toward his ear where you whispered in a little sing-song voice, “I can _see_ you.”

You jumped back when he lunged around, finally losing the glamour and laughed at the anger on his face. “We can all see you!” you shouted, sweeping your arms out. “Souls don’t lie, dumbass!”

“Bitch! I should have killed you that day in the chair!” he snarled.

You reached up and pulled the helmet from your head. “You were too much a pussy, but you did take one thing from me that day. You took my sight. What’s that old adage? An eye for an eye? Well, you took both of mine.”

He jerked a gun from his waist. “Try me!”

Magret’s sword swept through the barrel and nearly shaved off one of his fingers. “Now, now. None of that.”

“Come, sisters. We should at least _try_ to make this fair.” You held up your hand. “After all, I have my blades; let Garry have his.”

He dropped the gun, his scowl growing and drew two blades from his hips. “It’s Connor, bitch.”

You smiled, “That’s Queen Bitch,” and lunged for him.

Fighting him was laughable, no different than it had been on the roof of Stark Tower, and you took your talons to him over and over, slicing through his thigh and shoulder, stealing one of his knives with ease.

When you stepped back, he was panting and bleeding, and it made you smile. “You took things from me. You damn near took Steve. You made me doubt myself, my team. You broke me down to nothing and put me in that _godforsaken chair_!”

“My queen, your husband is growing more… irate,” Ama muttered.

“Husband,” Conner spat. “What a joke. You married him? You could have had _everything_ if you’d just done what you should have in the beginning and called _them_!” He pointed at the archers flying overhead, picking apart the field.

“No, I wouldn’t have. Do you know what happens to a Valkyrie Queen who uses the forces of Asgard for her own benefit? She’s executed for treason against the crown. There is no such thing as personal gain in the Valkyrjur.” You tossed his knife into the ground.

“What do you call this?” he cried, waving at the women around you.

You smiled. “Justice.” Again you lunged for him and raked your talons across his face.

He screamed and thrashed, catching you on your forearm with his other blade and cutting you deeply. You hissed and jumped back, slapping a hand to your flesh as a wave of white-hot rage pounded through you. “Oh, shit!”

“My queen!” Oda gasped, but before anyone could move, a roar of unimaginable anger silenced the field.

“The fuck was that?” Connor asked, fear in his voice.

You sighed and glanced down the field where people were flying through the air before the charging bull of your sjelevenn. “Berserker.”

***

“Ama, you tell her to put that comm back in her ear right the fuck now!” Steve bellowed, slicing his way down the field.

“I’m sorry, your grace but our queen is… busy.”

“She gets _one_ scratch, _one_ I’ll be so damn pissed!”

“Steve,” Bucky sighed. “She’s got eight Valkyrie with her.”

“Seven!” he barked. “Eira is with _you_.”

“Whoa, chill with the venom, Cap. It’s just Garry,” Clint snickered.

“Barton, I will beat you with your bow,” Steve growled.

“Steve, she could kick his ass with both arms tied behind her back and a broken leg,” Natasha said.

“That doesn’t mean I want her too,” he sighed. “Ama, give her back the comm. Right. Now.”

“I would, your grace, but she’s… busy.”

“Odin’s beard! Ama! You pull her back and stick that comm in her ear right fucking now!” Steve barked, striding down the field. It would have amused him, how people - both his own and the enemy - were moving out of his way if he’d been able to see anything but the circle of women far too close to enemy lines for his liking.

“My queen, your husband is growing more… irate.”

“She already knows, dammit!” Steve barked, swinging his sword like an angry tail. Then, even across the field, he could hear it when Garry screamed, but it was the flash of pain through his arm, pain that had nothing to do with his body and everything to do with _hers_ that had him seeing nothing but white.

Rage. He’d never felt anything like it before. He’d been angry plenty of times, but this came in like a tsunami, a breached dam that overflowed millions of gallons of water into his soul. It was hot, and his bones ached with it. His lungs burned as the world became washed in a halo of white. Pressure built hard and fast in his chest, his muscles swelled, his fists clenched around sword and shield. A deep inhalation filled his burning lungs, and Steve released it on a roar that ripped from his body with violence.

There was no thought but one. 

Y/N. He had to get to Y/N. Someone had hurt Y/N, and surged down the field, uncaring for anyone and everyone who got in his way

***.

There was a howling coming with him as people rushed to get out of Steve’s way. The baying of an entire pack, as if running at his side. Then wisps and curls of mist were forming at his heels, pouring from the blade clenched tight in his fist. They took on a ghostly form, five sleek ones running over the grass, snapping and biting.

You’d never seen anything like it in all of your lives, but _Randulfr_ meant shield-wolf in the old tongue. Could this, then, be another of the sword’s abilities? It was a question for Loki, or better yet Odin, but right now you needed to slow him down or Steve was liable to slaughter Garry.

You shot the terrified ex-agent a glance and smirked a little to yourself. There was one eye he’d never again see out of. “Disarm and hold him. I have to stop Steve.”

“My queen.” Brynhildr stepped forward. “Is this smart? You do not know how he will react to you. The first Berserk is always the most dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured, striding into open space to meet the charging super soldier. White-eyed and raging, you had a moment to feel the thrill as you tapped into his emotions, then shoved them down deep. He, you knew, could control the spiral in and out of the rage. You could not.

With arms outstretched, one arm bloody and dripping, you walked toward him. “Steve.”

He didn’t even break stride, knocking people left and right, eyes white and glowing, ghost wolves howling and running at his heels. By the gods he was magnificent!

“Sjelevenn.” You advanced by careful steps. “ _Sammen som en i alle ting,”_ you murmured, slowing to a stop, waiting for him.

He never slowed down, just came to a sudden and dead stop inches from you, panting, hands shaking, looking enormous in his armour with those impressive spirit wolves milling around your legs. Steve bent slowly, his head dipping down, eyes white and jaw hard. “Together as one in all things.”

You smiled. “Yes, sjelevenn.”

You watched his eyes narrow, then he lifted his sword high and slammed it into the ground, driving it deep and setting it swaying before he took your hand and lifted your blood soaked arm. “You bleed. I want the one who did it.”

“Steven,” you warned.

The shield joined his sword embedded in the dirt, freeing that hand to bury in your hair, drag you up on your toes, and pull your head back. “Give him to _me_ ,” he purred, voice full of wrath.

“It’s done, Steve. He lost his sight in one eye. I am satisfied with that justice,” you murmured, lashes fluttering with how his nose dragged along your jaw.

His hand tightened further, drawing your chin back. His lips pressed to your pulse point as he whispered, “I’m not.” Before you could fathom his intentions, he yanked his sword from the ground and threw it, sending it into the earth at Garry's feet. “Take him.”

The wolves surged past you, wove around your Valkyrie, and slammed into the man you’d all known as Garry. He gasped, the entire pack passing through him like ghosts through a wall. Then his eyes rolled back, his body went lax, and he dropped dead between May and Frey.

“Steve…” you gasped, watching with your second sight as the wolves tore something apart a few feet away. “What did you do?”

“I ended the threat,” he murmured, still brushing his lips on your skin.

The ghost pack returned, rubbed against his legs, then loped back to his sword and vanished. Only then did the glow of the Berserker leave Steve’s eyes. 

When bright blue once again stared into yours, you searched them, looking for any confusion that would indicate a lapse in his memory. “Steve?”

“Baby,” he purred. “You are in _so_ much trouble.”

“What did you do to Garry, Steve?” You’d seen some strange things in your day, but nothing like that.

“Ah, Captain. I see you’ve found the _ånd ulv pakke_ , or Spirit Wolf Pack,” Loki smirked, striding out of a smoky cloud. “Sadly, it appears Thor and I did not arrive in time to be of assistance, but that was quite impressive. Father will be pleased.”

You rolled your eyes. “Loki, what the hell is a spirit wolf?”

“A guardian, or in this case five - nicely done that, Hurgid could only ever call three - that can pull the soul from a body and then shred it out of existence. It worked well in a tick when Hurgid was outnumbered,” Loki nodded sagely.

Steve frowned and reached for his ear. “Everyone please shut up! We’ll explain later,” he huffed and turned off the comm.

“Did you know that’s what they were?” you asked Steve, staring up at him in shock.

“Yes. As soon as they appeared, I just… knew,” he murmured, glaring at your arm. “Baby, you need this seen to.”

“Hm, let me.” With nothing but a flick of his fingers, Loki had the wound cleaned wrapped and bandaged.

“I had it handled with Garry, Steve,” you muttered.

He bent to retrieve his shield. “I handled it better.”

“I agree,” Loki smirked.

“Ugagn, shut up.”

Steve rose and curled his free arm around your waist. “Sweetheart, I reiterate. You are in _so much_ trouble.”

You would have rolled your eyes, but as he was practically seething, you forced yourself not to. “You can be pissed all you want, Steven. Garry was mine. It’s closure. I needed it, and I got it.”

“Along with a knife to the arm, dammit, that could have easily been a knife to something a hell of a lot more vital!” he bellowed.

His fear - no, his terror at the idea silenced your argument. “Alright, Steve. Alright.” You wouldn’t apologize for doing what you needed to, but you wouldn’t fight with him about it either.

Steve heaved a sigh and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. “Okay.”

“My queen? The annoying one in the red armour is yelling in my ear.” Ama held out the comm.

“-turn his damn comm back on!” Tony barked.

“Steve, it’s Tony for you,” you smirked and shot him a wink.

“Stark?” he murmured, tapping his ear.

“Well, gee, thanks for rejoining the group, Cap. Just thought you’d like to know we’ve got survivors from the ship the Valkyrie took out running into every corner of the countryside, and to make matters even more exciting, Secretary Ross is up my ass about this whole mess. He's ten minutes out with a video someone posted online of the _fleet_ of Valkyrie flying around.”

You looked up at Steve, gave a wan smile, and muttered a weak, “Yay.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language
> 
> Song: Not Afraid Anymore by Halsey

* * *

 

Steve gave a heavy sigh and turned to face the compound. “I thought we were done with that asshole.”

“We were supposed to be,” Stark grumbled.

“You two go be the unwelcome committee. I’ll have the Valkyrie ride down the runners,” Y/N said.

“I will take Thor and check on the ship,” Loki offered. “We missed the fight. Perhaps we can find one.” He chuckled even as he vanished and it was creepy. That whole Cheshire Cat thing he did that made them all shudder.

Steve nodded. “Join us once you give the orders,” he said as he jogged away, Bucky falling in at his side as Eira returned to Y/N’s.

“You do realize you nearly ran me down,” he muttered, punching Steve in the shoulder.

“Can’t say I even noticed. It all went kinda squirrely on me there at the end. Like your primitive brain takes over,” Steve explained. “You get one thought in your head, and the rest is all instinct.”

“Yeah, well, on a high note, Garry’s dead,” Bucky grinned.

“Rumlow’s dead again too,” Steve smirked. “Gunborg, Brynjar, I’m assuming Kerse as well.”

“It’s been a good day,” Bucky snickered.

They both ignored the looks from the women helping clean up the field of the wounded and defeated when they gaped at Bucky’s arm. They both knew it wasn’t necessary to keep it a secret any longer.

“Where’s Fury?” Steve asked.

“He had to return to Washington for the day. Is due back tomorrow. We didn’t expect this to happen,” Natasha said, joining the jog back to the building.

“She hit us on three fronts,” Steve murmured. “The timing was off just enough for us to put them all down. We got lucky.”

“Y/N solved her Valkyrie problem?” Nat asked.

“You’re damn right I did!” Y/N laughed, a snap of wings making the three of them look up as she and eight others flew overhead.

“I feel like that’s cheating,” Bucky grumbled. “We’re the ones who’ve been doing all the work, yet she gets the ride?”

Sam chased after them. “When they said you were bringing the cavalry, damn girl! You got any Valkyrie left in Asgard?”

Y/N laughed. “This is only the first hundred wings, Sam! There’s plenty left in Asgard.”

“Lila is gonna be so mad she didn’t get to see this,” Clint snickered, the archer staring up at the sky when Steve glanced at him, resting against his knee, sitting on the roof ledge. “Look at all of them.”

Steve slowed to look up and finally stopped to take in the sight of the winged white horses flying through the sky. They’d scattered, no longer in their strict formations, most riderless as their Valkyrie were busy on the ground. It was beautiful and almost poetic, their white hides and wide wings against the blue sky and slowly moving clouds; thick and gradually darkening with the dropping temperature, Steve figured by tomorrow there would be snow.

Still, the pegasi held his attention. It was beautiful and majestic. It was magic.

“When did I wind up in a fantasy novel?” Natasha murmured, awe in her voice.

Yavi jogged over and nodded to Steve before sliding appreciative eyes over Natasha. “Your grace, where would you like us to put the prisoners?”

Nat arched a brow and threw him a smirk. “Why don’t I show her where we can put everyone until we can sort through this mess.”

“Yavi, Natasha,” Steve said, making quick introductions. “You can follow her.”

“After watching her fight, I’d be happy to,” Yavi purred.

Bucky stifled a snort, and Steve tried not to let his ears turn pink as he walked away. “Bruce?”

“Yeah, I’m back,” the man said in his ear. “I’ve got the medical staff rounded up. It’s being handled.”

“Understood.” There were a few people in need of it, and still more who he knew it would be too late to help. Clean up would be difficult.

Spread out before them stood a line of nine pegasi and their riders, Y/N sitting proudly in the middle. There was a fleet of vehicles headed toward them, at least a dozen SUV’s. Steve walked up and stood at his girl’s knee, sword and shield held loose and ready. Bucky joined Eira on Y/N’s opposite side.

“He hold up alright?” Bucky asked Eira, running his hand down her mount’s neck.

“He’s fine,” she smiled as she bent down in kissed her sjelevenn. “You did a good job wrapping it to slow the bleeding. Thank you for looking after him.”

“He’s yours, kitten. Of course I would.”

“OMG!” Clint squealed and Steve winced. “Is _that_ what Wand’s meant? Barnes has a sjelevenn, too?”

Y/N chuckled and glanced up. “Yeah, feathers. He sure does.”

“Lucky bastard,” Sam huffed, landing a few feet away. His wings folded back as he strode closer, grinning at Bucky.

“That I am,” Bucky smirked.

Tony landed seconds later, causing a few of the pegasi to snort at the noise. “Like flying through an obstacle course with all them winged wonders,” he grumbled as the vehicles began to pull to a stop.

Ross stepped cautiously out of the third one along with his entourage, all looking warily up at the sky, or the women spread out before them.

“Your majesty,” Ross murmured.

“Secretary,” she smirked. “You’re late to the party.”  

Steve squeezed her calf in warning, well aware of what happened the last time she and Ross shared a verbal spar.

His face darkened with anger. "We weren't made aware there was a problem until a video of hundreds of flying horses hit the internet."

"We didn't exactly have time to pick up the phone and call, Secretary, and considering that big ass helicraft came from the west, how the hell did you not notice the army descending on this compound?" Stark asked.

"You didn't see them coming either, Stark!" Ross snapped. "We came to make sure this," his attention swung back to Y/N, "Valkyrie army wasn't here for nefarious purposes."

All eight women came sharply to attention.

"May I hit him, my queen, for such an insult?" Ama asked.

"Get in line," growled Brynhildr.

Y/N slung a leg over her saddle and leaned on her knee. "Secretary Ross, as you can see, my sister's will also not tolerate your attitude. And really, what did you think you could do showing up with a dozen vehicles unless…" She looked up and arched a brow. "Ah, I see. You can call them off. The pegasi are already aware of the second helicarrier. Come any closer and the Iron Wing will take it as hostile intention and do to your aircraft what they did to Hydra's."

A horn sounded, two more answered, and the women with the heavy horsepower were mobilizing.

Ross ground his teeth together but nodded to the man standing next to him. The soldier lifted a hand to his ear, mumbling abort codes and ordering the carrier back to base.

"Oda, tell them to stand down," Y/N murmured.

The small blonde lifted her horn and blew three sharp blasts. They all watched as the group of women circled once and flew off to land where they could.

Y/N nudge Hemme forward, and Steve went with her. Wanda landed on Steve's left, Vision beside her. Scott appeared on her right with Bucky and Tony.

"Let me know if you want me to put this arrow somewhere, Cap," Barton murmured. The archer hadn't moved from his place on the roof.

His words made Y/N smile. "Secretary Ross, you keep operating under the assumption that I'm the bad guy here. That I'll turn around and invade, but that is not our way. I'm here to help. My sisters are here to help. It's time for you to hear and understand that fact."

Again he ground his teeth together, an audible sound before barking, "The last time an alien army invaded it took out half of Manhattan! Forgive me for being cautious!"

"Forgiven," she quipped and sat back with a smug grin. "Now, unless you'd like to offer assistance in helping with the cleanup, you can go."

If he kept doing that with his teeth, Steve was sure he'd break a few. "You may be a queen on Asgard, but you're not my queen. You do not get to dismiss me like that!"

"Would you like me to dismiss you the way I did last time?" Y/N growled.

"You hit me again, and I'll have you brought up on charges!"

Hemme grew restless and began to dig at the gravel, a soft wicker made Y/N chuckle and pat his neck, making Steve wonder if the stallion had offered to kick Ross for her.

Then an angry buzzing came from Ross's inner pocket and had him dragging out his phone to answer with a sharp, "What!?" His face lost all its colour. "Mr. President, sir. I didn't realize-" He was cut off by the angry voice on the other end of the line. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir. I will, sir."

He hung up, his face red with rage. "It seems someone is live streaming this encounter, and after our last conversation after your television interview somehow leaked, I've been ordered to return home after…" Whatever it was clearly needled him as Ross chewed on the words for a few seconds as before spitting them out. "After I apologize to you, Captain for considering you _property_ of the United States Government."

"Accepted." Steve stepped forward and held out his.

Ross looked sickened by the idea of shaking it but eventually reached out and accepted. Knowing it was Tony doing the recording, Steve leaned in close, turned his face away from the camera, and whispered harshly, "Come at my wife one more time, and I will call in every favour of every politician that owes me and have you removed from power. Do you understand?"

Rage gave way to resignation in Ross's eyes before he gave a slight nod. "Captain." Ross pulled his hand away, got back in his vehicle, and left.

***

The clean up would have taken hours but for all the womanpower - and horsepower - that came with your Valkyrie.

Thor and Loki took great pleasure in ransacking the Hound's fallen vessel. It turned out some of the technology on board was third generation Sjeletyv from the last ljå's ship. Stark had wanted a look, but the three of you refused. Nothing good could come from anything that creature left behind, and after a heated debate, Tony had finally relented. Whatever Thor and Loki found and destroyed would forever remain a mystery.

Still, from the database, even scrambled, Tony was able to pinpoint the rest of the Hounds strongholds and was already planning missions to take them out.

You would not be going, and neither would Steve or Bucky. The three of you were needed on Asgard. The Valkyrjur still had many weeks of work before everything would again run smoothly. Steve and Loki at one point had worked together, tossing ideas - and on Steve's part questions - back and forth about where to start and what to do for Sváfaland.

Bucky was wholly inclined to be where Eira was, and now that all knew of his metal arm, he could really have some fun training with the woman, plus Eira was eager to go to Wakanda and meet Okoye and her Dora Milaje.

And when the kids returned, awed and amazed, flush with victory from their missions, you knew all would be well on Earth. You were only a call away after all.

With so much of the base destroyed, people injured and dead, you left two units behind to help with security. Yavi and Nat were making eyes at each other, both surprising and amusing you. You left her in charge and told her to do as Nat and the other Avengers said.

For further orders, she could send a messenger home daily and left only three pegasi behind to share Hemme's barn. There simply wasn't the space to house all of them, though you overheard Tony muttering to Friday about barns, barn plans, and what could they rebuild or convert to house the winged wonders.

But you had to return to Asgard before sundown. You needed to be in Valhalla before the gong sounded to see if those you'd lost in battle would return.

Standing in the lounge after the majority of the army had returned to Asgard, and the others were getting settled, you, Steve, Eira, Bucky, Thor and Loki laid out the whole sordid tale, each telling individual parts or interjecting here and there until you felt utterly drained and exhausted.

But it was over. Everything you'd need to do to protect your people on two worlds was finally finished and you were ready to head home.

"Hey," Steve said, his arms tight around you. "Can we make a quick detour?"

You frowned at him over your shoulder. "To where?"

"The tomb in Sváfaland. I… I need to check something."

Your heart jumped. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that."

You waved goodbye to the others and jet Hemme have his head. As he'd been listening, the stallion made the jump without needing direction, and you braced yourself. You knew Ēostre was dead, the curse should be broken, but you still braced yourself.

The passage was uneventful, though you flew through into light snow flurries just beginning to cover the ground. Down the valley, you winged your way until the castle rose like a sentinel over the land.

“Holy fuck! That's your castle?”

Buck's outburst made you laugh as you directed Hemme to the opposite side of the valley and down to land on the ridge that overlooked it. You swung from the stallion’s back, making it easier for Steve to dismount and patted Hemme’s neck.

“You want me to come with you?” you asked Steve.

He just held out his hand.

The others stayed behind, knowing this was something the two of you needed to do on your own as you hiked the short distance up the mountain to where the fallen lintels of the tomb sat in its mossy, ancient glory.

But it was the person sitting, transparent and lightly glowing on a boulder beside it that had your breath catching. “Helgi?”

He rose and it was like seeing Steve’s twin. “Sváfa, my queen.” He bowed his head, a smile lifting the edges of his beard. “You are even more beautiful this life.”

“I take it by your appearance we broke the curse keeping you here,” Steve said, tightening the grip he had on your hand.

It was amusing that he was jealous of what was technically himself, but you didn’t say anything. Helgi was the past. Steve was your present and your future, though it was nice to see him and know Helgi was free from his confinement.

“You succeeded. Freyja came and saw the others to Fólkvangr, even our brother. His jealousy should not deny him a place of rest. What part he played, he is sorry for, and now the wrongs have been righted.”

“But…” you frowned at him. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you have gone on with the others?”

“How could I?” he grinned at Steve. “When the rest of my soul is still here.”

Helgi held out his hand to Steve who took it without hesitation. The glow around Helgi brightened, then swiftly grew smaller as the apparition of Helgi sank into Steve. He gasped and stiffened, then looked at you in shock once Helgi was gone.

“I remember.”

You gaped at him. “What?”

“Everything,” he whispered. “My first life. Helgi, meeting you, the battles…” His gaze dropped to your abdomen and his hand swiftly followed. “Losing… losing our child,” he said hoarsely. “Dying in your arms, I remember everything.” The blue of his eyes was electric when he lifted his head. “Nights before the fire with you rising over me… fuck,” he grinned. “You were dirty and mouthy even then!”

Then he laughed, a deep bellow of barked sound when he picked you up and swung you around. “I remember!”

You laughed, joy filling you both to the brim and spilling over.

“And now I know what to do for the people. How to help Sváfaland! I’m still going to need Loki’s help because so much has changed, but I won’t be a complete dumbass!”

He laughed another deep chuckle then closed his mouth over yours and made your eyes cross when he curled his tongue inside your mouth and stroked over yours in a way only Helgi ever had. The action made you knees buckle which caused him to lift his head and laugh all over again.

“I know all your secrets now, baby. Things I hadn’t discovered yet,” he purred, nipping your earlobe and tugging at it. “You’re gonna a been one hot mess when I’m done with you.”

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned and climbed him like a tree to get your hands in his hair.

He pressed your back into the mossy stone and bit your bottom lip a little harder than usual. It sent fire screaming through your veins. “Steve.”

“Later," he promised as he pulled away. "We need to get back. The sun will set soon.”  

“That was cruel. Get me all fired up and walk away,” you pouted as he detangled your legs from his waist.

Steve gave your ass a firm swat as you walked past him. “Consider this the slow build, baby girl. And let Ama know we’re gonna be late for breakfast.”

Delicious shivers of anticipation raced up your spine. You smiled back at him. “Yes, your grace.”

He arched a brow. “That’s Captain to you, dollface.”

***

There was no ceremony for the three killed in the Valkyrjur that day. However, one pyre had been built to honour the two Valkyrie and two Pegasi executed by the past Fullmakt. Long dead and buried, there was nothing you could do but offer prayers for their souls and hope they found peace as you laid the wreath of wheat and pine, lilies and berries on the pile of hewn golden logs gathered from Glasir, the tree that guarded the way to Valhalla from Glaðsheimr.

Gunburg, Brynjar, and Ēostre had been taken into the woods and buried in unmarked graves. Their names would be remembered only in the record of their failed action against the Valkyrjur and Asgard. They would not be celebrated, nor would their names grace the stones of the fallen that dotted the Valley of the Pegasi.

But the two you honoured tonight would be carved upon the stone by those who knew them best.

As you walked around the pyre, garbed in a gown of white, setting torch to the pyre you murmured, “Find rest and peace now, sisters. Pella and Hoin, your names are not forgotten. Your sacrifices were not in vain.”

Then you stood at the foot and watched the fire eat its way through the pyre until the blaze burned high. Four stood guard at the corners, ready to keep watch and hold vigil over the flames until dawn came and it burned itself out.

Willa appeared at your side and held out a scroll; the first of its kind, but certainly not the last. “Gunborg’s sjelevenn scroll, your majesty.”

Thor and Loki had come to witness whether the dead would rise in Valhalla, allowing Loki to ascertain the validity of the scroll in your hand. Heavy of heart, knowing it was necessary, you stepped forward into the suffocating heat of the pyre and set the scroll aflame. Once it had burned down to your fingers, you tossed the last bit into the roaring inferno and turned away.

Gunborg could be reborn, that was up to the Norns, but never again would a soul resonate with that scroll. Never again would the memories of the lives contained within return to the body that housed that soul, guaranteeing Gunborg was no more.

There were two sjelevenn souls left. Yours and Eira’s. Both those scrolls were safely kept by Loki now. They would eventually join the vault beneath the castle in Asgard where a thief could never again get their claws on them. Should they need to be returned to Freyja’s temple, they would be accompanied by the God of Mischief and never leave his sight.

You didn’t think Freyja would mind her nephew’s involvement. After all, Loki did solve many of the questions regarding the near fall of the Valkyrjur.

You returned to Steve’s side. He looked tall and strong, eyes lined and smirking. Helgi’s memories had relaxed him to the point Bucky had asked if a pod person replaced him, but now kohl-lined eyes and gaping masculine necklines no longer threw him. He remembered. He’d fought and feasted in Valhalla many times.  

Bucky grumbled something about ‘going native,’ sighed heavily, and dragged open the collars of his shirt a little more. Bucky's hand gleamed in the firelight and caught your eye as Steve wrapped your cloak around you.

The flurries hadn’t ended, coating the ground in its first layer of white. Winter was here but life didn’t stop in the Valkyrjur simply because the seasons changed. As one, the archers stepped forward, fired, and lit the fires to open the way to Valhalla.

Baldi and Balik, along with Ekheart waited as the subdued crowd made their way through the gates inside where the men who’d lived quietly waited. It was a sombre sight.

Ragnar, Ubbe, Floki, and Hvitserk came to greet you as you all waited for the last of the light to fade.

“You won three battles today, my queen,” Ragnar said, pulling you in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You helped with one of those,” you murmured, holding him firmly.

“Everything went well?” he asked.

“Better than expected,” you agreed. It had been a long ass day.

When Ragnar stepped back, you weren’t surprised Steve pulled you into his chest and forced you to sit with him. “I know you’re tired,” he murmured against your ear.

“I am, and all I did was point and shout,” you snickered.

“Sometimes that takes more energy than just wading in.”

The sound of the gong rippled through the open doors to Glaðsheimr before you could reply. Everyone froze. What quiet conversations had been going on ended, and you all waited in anticipation, hope and doubt warring.

Odin arrived in a shimmer of gold and sat on his throne, also waiting, wondering if the dead would rise.

For one long moment, there was nothing, no one appeared. Then, boots on wooden floors came thundering down the hall and the men burst into the room with manic grins.

You sagged into Steve in utter relief. “Oh, thank god!”

“Which one?” he teased.

A mighty cheer rose and Valhalla erupted in celebration. You sat back and waved May closer when you caught her eye. “Tell them to break out the champions wine. Tonight, we celebrate and they all deserve it.”

“Hot damn!” Bucky laughed and kissed Eira for all he was worth. "That was good shit!"

"My queen."

You looked up to find Ivar smirking at you. "Ivar!" He caught you and laughed when you launched yourself at him. When he released you from the hug, you hauled your arm back and slugged him hard in the shoulder. "Don't do that again!"

He chuckled and rubbed his shoulder. "As you say, my queen." Ivar grinned at Steve. "She's a handful."

"I'm aware," Steve snickered, rising to take your cloak from your shoulders, revealing the dress you wore beneath.

All the men but Ragnar and Ubbe gaped at you.

"You are with child!" Floki laughed, the first to reach for you and drag you into a much gentler than usual hug.

When you'd returned to the keep to prepare for whatever came tonight, your sisters had been giddy with excitement, pulling dress after dress from a trunk that had not been used in a very long time.

Bucky had been confused, but Steve knew. He remembered. When you were in the Valkyrjur or Valhalla, when your safety was pretty much guaranteed, you left your armour in your chambers.

Nothing announced a queen's condition faster than her attire and made it glaringly clear the women who guarded you wouldn't hesitate to gut anyone they considered a threat.

Only when you left would you armour up, and even then, you would only be able to wear it for so long. Thankfully, your cloak could double as protection, but you figured by that point, Steve would barely leave your side, let alone let you go anywhere dangerous.

Congratulations and good-natured ribbing spread through the hall like wildfire. It was strange to see so few men, but it felt… right. There was no longer any discord humming in Valhalla.

You'd succeeded. Your home was safe, your people happy, and a new life lay before you.

When the men lifted their glasses in a toast to Odin, you lifted yours as well.

You were home, and it was good.

  



	35. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, slight angst, fluff, language
> 
> Song: Finding You by Kesha
> 
> A/N: Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me! It has been an incredible ride, an awesome adventure, and I'm so happy you've enjoyed it.  
> May you ride strong into battle, and your sword always be sharp!  
> T~

* * *

 

Three years later...

The air was crisp this high in the mountains, but Steve didn't mind. It wasn't often they got away like this — just the two of them, no kids, no guards, no questions.

High up on the mountain overlooking the Valley of the pegasi was a small ridge where a natural hot spring formed. It was a place Helgi had discovered their first life, and one Steve enjoyed returning to, especially now that he knew about magic tents.

No bigger than the palm of his hand, you took the ball of tent magic and tossed it on the ground where it popped up waterproof, full of provisions, with a fantastic bed slash pile of furs, and brazier to keep the chill off once the tent flaps closed. But as he ran hot, it was rare they closed the flaps at night, preferring suffering the nip in the air for the view that spread out at the foot of their bed.  

He stretched and looked down a the head of braids and feathers resting on his chest. “Baby, time to wake up.”

“No,” she grumbled, burying deeper in all the furs and blankets.

“Come on, darlin’,” he chuckled. “If we leave now, the coffee will still be hot when we get back to the keep.”

She peeked up over the edge and stared at him. “That’s dirty pool.”

“That’s called knowing my wife,” he smirked and slid out from under Y/N who grabbed the back of his underwear.

“Or… you could come back here and give me a proper wake-up.”

He smirked down at her. “Insatiable. We barely got any sleep last night because _someone_ kept getting handsy in the hot spring.”

She sat up and let the covers slide down her back. “Don’t try and blame it all on me. You were just as bad.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, twisted and pinned her to the bed. “I was.” Steve kissed her hard with a whole lot of tongue, then pulled away. “But I’ve got that meeting in the village this morning, you’re supposed to be blooding the new maidens, and we haven’t seen the kids in two days.”

She pouted until he brought up the kids. “Rogers, you could have just said that in the first place!”

She bucked and flipped him to the side, off the edge of the bed, and to the cold canvas floor. “Dammit, Y/N!”

She burst out in giggles and stood from their bed, stretching, naked, her muscles sliding under smooth skin. “You know, I love these little getaways, but I miss the kids.”

“Yeah, me too.” Steve smiled getting to his feet and pulling on his pants.

Three years ago they had defeated the Hounds, destroyed the last remaining evidence of the Sjelvety, and corrected the wrongs happening in the Valkyrjur. It had been an incredibly tense few months.

After, they had returned to Asgard where Y/N worked on ruling with grace and poise, teaching this new generation of Valkyrie what Gunborg and Ēostre had conveniently forgotten, or rewritten for their own purposes.

He, with Bucky at his side and Loki a strange but welcome addition to their party, worked long and hard to return Sváfaland to its former glory. The first winter had been rough, seeing many of the villagers taking refuge in his keep. Christ, he still couldn't fully comprehend that he, Steve Rogers, the little guy from Brooklyn, owned a castle, but he'd quickly gotten to know everyone, setting them at ease with this "outsider" who was their new lord.

'Your grace,' still made him sigh, but he'd gotten used to it and no longer corrected people. Having them use 'Captain' worked with a few of the men he'd grown close too, but not the rest.

Bucky when not with Y/N, now more honorary guard then actual guard, had taken it upon himself to train the keep's soldiers. 

There were… a lot. Even now it made Steve chuckle as he dressed.

When the people of Asgard found out two super soldiers were running things in Sváfaland, and that both were sjelevenn to Valkyrie, many of the young men came to see just how good a fighter they could be. Once they saw it for their own eyes, well… there was no shortage of people wanting to swear allegiance and be trained.

Y/N or Eira vetted everyone after a few unsavoury characters had tried to lie their way past the gates. Not that Steve couldn't see it for himself when a soul was just nasty, but they kept that bit of information private, allowing him to differ to his wife in such things.

Sváfaland was flourishing, and the Valkyrjur was too. Y/N had flown out once - with backup - to help the newbie Jegere establish themselves as searchers. For now, they would watch the halls and villages of Asgard but venture no further. Should more Jegere be discovered, they would fly farther afield, to the colonies and worlds like Vanaheim where other young women could be gleaned for the Valkyrjur.

Everything had settled, both here and on Earth. Tony was firmly entrenched directing the ‘not so newbies’ like Faye and Grant, Susan, Sammy, and the others. Clint and Nat had taken over training the 'fresh meat' as Natasha liked to call them, recruits directed to them from Fury and Hill, while and Yavi, the Valkyrie who'd been impressed with Nat on the battlefield was a much more permanent addition to the Avengers compound. When Nat or Clint needed a heavy hitter, Yavi was their woman.

She and Natasha had an understanding.

Steve didn't ask. He was simply happy that the petite redhead was happy.

It had become a bit of an epidemic of Valkyrie finding what Y/N called 'life partners' on Earth. They weren't sjelevenn, and most chose not to marry, but it only took a few visits for Sam and Ama to lock eyes and find their own 'understanding.'

One that did include wedding bells after six months of being damn near inseparable. She too had chosen to remain on Earth, returning to the Valkyrjur when necessary, and acting as an envoy.

While Sam, and all of them, liked to visit, Asgard wasn't home for them like it had become for Steve and Bucky.

Well, except Clint's oldest Lila. That girl would live in the Valkyrjur if she could. When Y/N had taken the Barton's to visit the valley of the pegasi, Steve thought they'd never get Lila to leave. And when one of the mares with her foal at her side had come over to investigate the girl cooing at every soft nose and sleek feather, Y/N had gotten a funny look on her face.

As Steve still couldn't understand more than basic pegasi, he had to wait until later when the Barton's were working to settle their children for the night in Steve's castle - yes, Captain America does own a castle - to ask what the pretty silver mare had said.

"She'll make a fine rider."

It had stunned him for no Valkyrie had ever been gleaned from Earth before. And it was different for no family he'd ever met would give up their preteen daughter to go off and join an army.

He wasn't sure what to make of it, and neither was she. When Clint found out, he only nodded. "I kind of thought there was something, but best not tell Laura. She'll kick my ass. Somehow, this will be my fault."

Still, decisions had to be made, and though Laura wasn't happy about it, they were making concessions. Lila would start spending summers in the Valkyrjur, and they'd take it day by day. Laura refused to allow her daughter to give up her Earthly education, and Y/N quite agreed. They would simply added on to the instructions she was already getting.

This summer would be the first that Lila would spend away from home, and the child was both over the moon, and a little frightened.

Y/N had discussed the possibility with her sisters, taking into consideration everyone's concerns, and the choice was made. Lila would be the trial run for an Earthborn group of Valkyrie. As Earth's traditions were different than that of Asgard, they would make exceptions to how the girls trained. If at the end Lila was in any way less than all she could be as a Valkyrie, the project would be scrapped, and they would go back to the way it was always done.

It was a very big step for the Valkyrjur, but one Y/N thought was good for them. Gleaning girls for the ranks like they once had, taking them from their homes at such a young age, no longer seemed necessary. Perhaps it was time for a change.

Steve agreed, but he kept that opinion to himself. While he and Y/N discussed Valkyrie business privately, he tried not to stick his nose in it publicly. She was Queen. He didn’t feel it was his place to interfere unless asked.

Once they were both dressed, they exited the tent. Steve twisted the knob on the top of one of the poles and watched, still amazed, as it folded itself up and returned to its original small size. He picked it up and tucked it in Hemme’s saddlebags while Y/N whistled for the stallion.

“You think Loki lived?” he asked, grinning as he slung the bags over his shoulder.

She laughed. “I’m sure he was fine. He can duplicate himself, so if all else fails, he can make multiple nannies.”

Steve chuckled and went to wrap his arms around his wife, eyeing the locket that swung against her chest, now complete with pictures of their children. “I blame you.”

“For what?” she gasped.

“The rambunctious nature of our twins.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t the one picking fights with everyone bigger than me when I was little.”

“No, you were a Valkyrie. Picking fights was part of life.” Her fist connected with his shoulder and made him laugh.

“Watch it, Rogers.”

“You think you can take me?” he asked, tightening his grip around her.

She flicked her fingers over the leather and metal strips hanging down his chest, the ones she’d made him, skimmed her nails over the pendant at the opening of his tunic, hooked her finger in the garment and tugged. “I know I can.”

“Baby,” he growled and stole her lips for a kiss that sent desire swimming in his veins and answering in hers. Three years plus they’d been together, and he still couldn’t get enough of her. He knew he never would.

A snort and snap of wings had them breaking apart when Hemme landed.

“I am not,” he grumbled at the black.

“He’s right. You’re a randy stallion,” Y/N snickered, moving toward the stallion and swinging up on his back.

Steve rolled his eyes and heaved himself behind her on Hemme. “Well, I blame you for that,” he purred in her ear as he shifted himself up against her and grabbed handfuls of mane.

Her laughter followed them as Hemme dove off the cliff edge and let his wings catch the wind.

They flew over the valley where mares and foals played in the long grass. Like little Lila, it was one of Steve’s favourite places. Few places were as peaceful as the valley where the air smelled sweet, and the clear waters of the glaciers flowed. The water was pure, not as pure as what flowed in Valhalla but pretty damn close.

He brought his children there often, watching them toddle through the grass. The mares treated them like new foals and let them hug legs and kiss noses, never once growing tired of their chubby grasping hands. And when his twins grew tired, Steve had taken to napping in the meadow beneath the tall oak trees, his children held close to his heart.

Those were good days.

They flew over the Valkyrjur, past Valhalla, Freyja’s temple, and the keep of the Valkyrie. Women in white worked with girls in blue below, already up and about this time of the morning. It too made him smile. He loved this world in a way he’d never imagined possible.

It was… simple. Life was simple. Even when he was standing in the golden halls of Asgard arguing rules and laws with the stuffed up lords of Thor’s court - or Thor himself - it was still simple. He worked for the people. That was his job. To make sure those who called him ‘your grace’ had the best life he could hope for, for them. As long as his people were happy, he was content.

Sure Gar and Balus had balked a little when he’d suggested growing a different crop then was traditional for their land, but after discussing it with Tony and Bruce, both men coming to walk the land and take samples back to test the soil, Steve had found - surprisingly - his land was perfect for growing coffee.

Sure he’d had to research and learn and discuss the logistics with people who knew far more than he did, but eventually, they planted, tended, and harvested their first crop. They built warehouses to roast and grind the beans, bag the final product, and then sell it in Asgard creating more jobs and prosperity.

As Thor was fond of coffee, he’d advocated for the production, and when Sváfaland Brew hit the shelves, people were excited. The beverage was a hit, and Steve had secured the future for his land and people. In the end, it had created an entirely new industry, as now glass blowers were creating unique and beautiful coffee pots, mugs, and ways of filtering the grinds from the final product.

Between working with the men in the village and training with the men in the keep, his wife, his kids, and his friends, his life was full, and he was happy.

He was semi-retired, though occasionally called back to Earth when the original Avengers were needed. It wasn’t often, and when he had to go, Y/N and a unit of Valkyrie always went with them. The skies of Earth were often full of flying horses, and every time it was _magical._

As they descended to land outside the gates of his keep, Bucky came out to greet them with a smirk. “How was the weekend away?”

“Filthy,” Y/N quipped and made Bucky laugh.

Steve’s ears no longer turned pink when she said things like that even if it still embarrassed him. “How’s Eira?”

Bucky glanced at the keep behind him. “Had a rough night. She’s still in bed.”

“She’s getting close,” Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek when Bucky helped her down. “I remember what it was like before the twins were born.”

Steve grinned, over the moon happy for his brother. It felt like only minutes after Eira announced she was pregnant that Bucky was down on one knee, asking her to marry him. With the sjelevenn bonds, there was nothing that bound a couple tighter together, but Bucky insisted no son or daughter of his would be born with any last name _but_ Barnes.

In true Tony Stark fashion and with the help of Loki and half the Valkyrjur, Bucky and Eira married the next day, right after a trip to one former Goddess of Asgard's jewelry shop.

“And she says she’s only growing our son. She hasn’t a clue how you did it with two,” Bucky chuckled.  

Y/N shook her head. “Well, I only made seven months, so that helped.”

And a long seven months those had been. 

With the uniqueness of their bond, when Y/N suffered through bouts of morning sickness, so did Steve. When she had weird cravings for pickles and chocolate pudding, so did Steve. When the babies had kicked and tossed, keeping her up at night, so they kept him awake too.

There was nothing more embarrassing than being in the middle of a final meeting with Fury about what had gone down with the Hounds only to bolt out of the room to be sick in the nearest trash can.

Still, when Y/N's back hurt and she was too uncomfortable to do anything about it, Steve had gotten a massage, and she had slept like the dead for a solid six hours. When eating spicy food set off the twins, Steve could eat it for her and satisfy the desire for the taste of hot food without making the babies fussy. It turned into a give and take that, when they were in house, Bruce and Helen had found utterly fascinating.

Steve grinned as he dropped from Hemme’s back, gave the black a thump on the shoulder and sent the stallion off. He didn’t really like the tight quarters of the keep’s bailey, though he would bed down in the large stalls set aside for him and Røyke when they chose to stay the night rather than return to the Valkyrjur.

Since the birth of the twins, Y/N had split her duties between Valhalla and his lands. She spent three nights a week serving in the hall; the other four were spent in Castle Ulvvakt with him and their children. Of course, when she went to Valhalla, so did he, so their children spent three nights in the Valkyrjur being looked after by the eldest of the neophytes or a couple of maidens who were off duty.

“How’d Loki do?” Steve asked, surprised the kids weren’t already screaming out the gate.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Come see for yourself.”

Now suspicious, Steve and Y/N followed Bucky through the gates, nodding back when people shouted greetings, and up the stairs into the great hall where Loki, in his Asgard armour, was in a mock battle with two three-year-olds.

Their daughter, Valdís, in full but miniature Valkyrie regalia swung what Steve sincerely hoped was a fake sword at her Uncle Loki. She was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the braids and overly large feathers in her hair. While Asulf, his son, Steve's own mini-me, wore the miniature version of his armour, complete with fur collar, though his son swung a rather large axe for such a small boy.

They charged as one unit, battle cries ringing out, and tackled Loki who went down as if they were three hundred pounds of solid muscle. “Oh, no! You have vanquished me!”

“If only it were that easy,” Y/N quipped with a smile.

“Mum!” two small voices cried, deserting Loki and running for their mother.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Steve smirked, crouching down for a hug and lifting them both off their feet. Asulf immediately leaned out for Y/N while Valdís was content to cuddle into his neck, her tiny fingers tracing the lines of his mark.

Loki picked himself off the floor. “I see you’ve made it back. About time,” he huffed.

Steve shook his head. “Don’t even start. We know you love them. You can’t make it sound like it’s a chore when you look after the twins.”

“Yes, well,” Loki huffed, but a smile twitched his lips. “They are rather adorable. Must get that from Sváfa.”

“You expect me to disagree?” Steve snickered.

Loki had, strangely, become an extended part of their family. And yes, Steve had been stabbed more than once, but the daggers were short, the wounds superficial, and honestly, he almost preferred that to being pranked by the God of Mischief. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Loki had become a pesky, but much loved, younger brother.

Y/N chuckled and hung their son upside down by his ankles, sending peels of laughter into the air. The boy was a daredevil who had no qualms about asking Steve or Bucky to toss him ten to fifteen feet in the air and catch him again. Valdís too enjoyed a game of rough and tumble once in a while, but she was also content simply to snuggle.

“Miss you, daddy,” she said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

Steve felt himself melt for his little girl. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

When news of the twins birth finally became public knowledge, there was a little backlash from the people of Earth at their chosen names, but Steve and Y/N hadn’t cared. The children were of Asgard, born and raised, and while he and Y/N may have been born on Earth, with Helgi’s memories burned in his mind, Steve had offered suggestions that he knew would honour Asgardian heritage. Maybe with their next one they’d choose something more traditionally Earthy.

A clatter in the courtyard behind him had them all turning toward the keep’s open doors where Ama and her pegasus cantered through, came to a sliding stop, and Ama dismounted at a run. Steve’s heart rate jumped, as did Bucky’s, Y/N’s, and Loki’s. An entrance like that usually spelled trouble, but when Ama bound up the stairs, her smile huge, he slowly relaxed.

“Ama? What news?” Y/N asked, swinging Asulf right side up.

“The Sorcerer Supreme has found him!” she gasped out, panting, clearly having come in haste.

Y/N inhaled sharply. “Dr. Strange found Óðr?”

Ama nodded. “He’s certain. The magic from Freyja’s memento’s matches that of the man he’s found. Óðr is on Midgard!”

“Holy crap,” Bucky murmured as surprised as the rest of them.

“Holy crap!” Asulf mimicked.

“Oh, shit,” Bucky whispered, eyes wide and staring at Y/N.

“Shit!” chirped Valdís.

“Barnes,” Y/N growled. “You’re a dead man.”

Bucky backed away slowly. “I’m sure they’ve heard worse!”

His wife arched a brow. “And how would you know that? What else have you taught my kids?”

“Nothing! I swear!” He held up his hands in surrender.

Steve snickered, as did a few of the men and women working in the keep, all used to their banter and well aware that Y/N had one foul mouth, though she did her best to clean it up around the kids. “Y/N, kill Bucky later. This is important.” He plucked their son from her arms and grinned at Loki. “You in?” he asked, already motioning to Sven, one of the village men, to let the others know they'd have to reschedule the meeting. 

“To assist my Aunt? Of course! I will return to Asgard and inform Thor. We will meet you at the compound. I can transport us to Strange from there.” Loki flicked his hand and walked through a portal.

“Well, buds?” He smiled at the twins beaming up at him. “Should we go visit Aunt Nat and Uncle Clint?” And all the others too, but those two had claimed prominent places in his kid's hearts.

“Yay!” they cheered and made Steve laugh.

“I’m sorry I’ll miss it but… Eira…” Bucky glanced at the stairs.

“It’s okay, Buck.” Y/N hugged him. “You go be with your wife. She needs you.”

Bucky hugged back. “Good luck.”

***

He'd taken the position of an English professor at a University in Boston. When you thought about it, it made a strange kind of sense. He was the God of poetry, scholarly works, fervour, passion, inspiration and frenzy.

As you sat in the back of his lecture hall, listening to him expound on the works of Poe and Byron, engaged and engaging, you could see why his class was packed.

You could also see why seventy percent of the hall was women. The man was gorgeous, not that you'd say so to Steve, but tall, built like… well, a God. Big took on a new meaning when encased in gray tweed. His beard was golden, neatly trimmed, and thick. Eyes of flashing storms, grey and black and enthralling. His hair was long, but pulled back and tied with a leather thong. It swung against his spine every time he turned to face the board.

When the bell rang, and the lights came up, he called out assignments, his office hours, and reminded everyone they had papers due on Thursdays.

You watched wide-eyed young women flirt and fawn, but Óðr didn't bat an eye. Some he frowned at and waved away with impatience. Others he listened to kindly, murmured a response and turned away. Each one left rejected, with their heads hanging low.

As the last of his admirers lingered before slowly making their way out of the hall, you stood and made your way down the stairs to the front. "Professor Uther?"

"Yes?" He looked up and frowned. "You're not one of my students."

"No, sir, I'm not. My name is Y/N. I'm here on behalf of a friend."

"A friend?” The frown became a look of suspicion. “What is your _friend’s_ name?”

You smiled sadly at him. “I think you know.”

He snorted, cocked his head, and growled, “ _Valkyrie_!”

“Queen of them, actually,” murmured a deep voice. 

You smiled at Steve coming through the Eastern exit door.

“And a damn fine one,” Loki agreed, striding through the Western exit. “Uncle. Long time no see.”

“Nephew.” Óðr nodded his greeting. “I would say it is nice to see you, but I never wanted to see any of Asgard again.”

“Óðr,” you sighed, watching anger war with pain in the once God’s eyes. “You were lied to and not by Freyja.”

“You know not of what you speak!” he roared, causing the lights to flicker.

“As my sjelevenn stand there,” you pointed at Steve, “I know more than you think.”

He drew back, apparently shocked by your statement. “Valkyrie do not have sjelevenn.”

“Clearly he missed the news interview,” Steve chuckled and tugged down the collar of his shirt to show off the mark on his neck.

“Freyja and the Norns created sjelevenn bonds for us Valkyrie when she stepped down as Queen and left Asgard,” you explained.

“She speaks the truth, Uncle,” Thor said from the top of the stairs. “It is good to see you are well, Óðr. We have been worried about you.”

“Thor. I hear you are now King. Have you come for my fealty?” Óðr snapped.

Thor shook his head. “Only to right the wrong that has followed you for millennium. The dwarves lied, Uncle. Aunt Freyja never betrayed you.”

He scoffed and slammed his briefcase closed. “You know not of it! You were but a child!”

“I know of it,” Steve said, stepping forward. “Freyja told me the story. About seeing the Dwarf created Brísingamen. She didn’t sleep with them to gain it. She drank them all under the table. It took a really long time and they were embarrassed to be bested. That’s the only reason she didn’t come home, and why they lied about it. She was never unfaithful.”

Óðr pulled himself up to his full and impressive height. “And who are you, Midgardian to stick your nose in my business?”

Steve pulled off his cap and glasses. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

Óðr blinked twice. “Captain America is a sjelevenn? How the Hel?”

You laughed and made your way across the room. “It’s a long story, but he is also King of Sváfaland and Hurgid’s true heir.”

“Really?” the former God gave Steve a closer look before shaking his head. “But for all your insistence, I don’t believe-”

“How can you not believe her!” Steve snapped, striding toward the man who had a good six inches on him. “She’s your sjelevenn! If you love her half as much as I love Y/N you would-”

Óðr grabbed him by the shirt and slammed Steve back first into the wall behind his desk. “I was the first!” he bellowed. “Do not speak to me of your puny human emotions when they are but a drop in your ocean for how I love Freyja!”

“Then why won’t you speak to me?”

He froze, then slowly let go of Steve who continued to glare at Óðr. Your sjelevenn, Norns love him, never did know when to step back from a fight. 

Óðr turned to face Loki and the woman standing with him.

Her ocean eyes swam with unshed tears. Hair like waves of gold fell around her down her spine. In the blink of an eye, she’d shed her Earthly apparel for that of a supplicant priestess’ white gown, her only jewelry the cursed necklace Brísingamen, and the simple gold band that surrounded her left ring finger.

“Even now, after all these years you still wear it?” he whispered, pain in every word.

“Not by choice!” Freyja cried. She wrapped her hand around Brísingamen and tugged violently on it. “Even as the dwarves poisoned your ears against me, they cursed this damn thing so I can’t get it off. I would throw it in the river tomorrow if I could. If it would bring me but _one_ moment back in your arms, but until you forgive what never happened… no,” she shook her head, hair flying, “until you forgive _me_ for being blinded by this shiny bit of metal, it will not come off!”

Óðr’s face twisted as she yanked on the necklace. “You’ll hurt yourself, wife.”

She released it and let her hands fall, blood amber tears sliding down her cheeks. “Óðr, I have missed you so much. I have known no lover but you since the day we wed. Hel, since _before_ that night! Please!” she begged, striding forward to fall to her knees near his feet.

He stepped back. “Freyja…”

Her hands curled into fists as she bent forward, her hair pooling on the ground around her. “You are the very light in my heart, _hersker av min sjel_ , _gud av livet mitt_ ! I can’t live like this anymore, Óðr! So love me or hate me, but stop _leaving me alone_!”

Her anguish pierced your heart. How you longed to go to her, lift her up, comfort her, but that was not your place. You could only watch as Óðr with a face like stone stalked forward, bent down, and lifted her beneath her arms like a child until she dangled an inch off the ground.

He held her there as her tears streaked her face and stained her gown, as his eyes searched hers, as his countenance slowly softened. “ _Min søte raseri, elskede kone…_ how I have missed you.”

Freyja cried out with joy, threw her arms around him, and kissed him hard and fast.

Your heart swelled, and you locked eyes with Steve who was grinning at you, relief sliding through you both, even as you ignored the ache in your back thanks to his altercation with Óðr.

When freshly reunited God and Goddess finally broke apart, the sound of something metallic hitting the floor had all of you looking down. The necklace Brísingamen lay on the ground between their feet.

Freyja kicked it away. “Loki, would you be a dear and get rid of that atrocious thing?”

“I’d be delighted.” He flicked his hand, and the gold and amber disappeared.

She returned her attention to Óðr and gently stroked his face. “By the Norns how I’ve missed you.” Then she punched him in the chest. “Don’t ever run off without a proper explanation again!”

Óðr flinched. “Yes, dear.” He bowed his head. “They were… very convincing. Keil even spoke of the birthmark you have, you know, _there_.”

Freyja’s eyes widened as she gasped in dismay. “I knew that little shit had been spying on me in the bath! Oh, if he weren’t already dead, I’d gut the fucker!”

“Ha! I see you are as foul-mouthed as ever!” he laughed and dragged her in tight to him, his body so much larger than hers. “Come, my love. We have much lost time to make up for.” Then he looked at the four of you. “My thanks to you all for this momentous day.”

“It was our pleasure,” you smiled. “Freyja.”

“My warrior daughter,” she murmured, face alight with happiness, and eyes full of fresh tears. “How proud you make me.”

You let your tears run without shame down your face as Steve came to your side. “Please, let us know how you are.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “Don’t be strangers. You’re always welcome in Sváfaland or at the compound.”

“I think we will be spending our days on Midgard,” Freyja said, looking up at Óðr. “Asgard, though home, holds too many bad memories.”

“Indeed,” Óðr agreed. “But I look forward to getting to know you both.” He grinned at Thor and Loki. “And perhaps beating these two around the ears again.”

Loki rolled his eyes while Thor looked pleased with the idea.

“Take care,” you nodded to Freyja.

“And you, Queen of the Valkyries. May you ride strong into battle, and your sword be ever sharp.” With those parting words, the two vanished.

You looked up at Steve, the only man you’d ever loved, and smiled. “So… it’s Karaoke night.”

“Oh, really?” he smirked down at you.

“Yeah, Tony called it right before we left. You gonna sing me a song, sjelevenn?”

He shrugged but his eyes sparkled, and excitement trickled through you both. There was a lot less groaning over Karaoke night now that you and the Valkyrie had begun to take part. Of course, it had taken a while to get the girls caught up on popular culture, but man, Tony’s parties were the highlight of the year, and invites were worth more than gold to some people.

“Odin’s beard,” Loki sighed. “I am returning to Asgard.”

“Party pooper.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“For my part, I shall return to Asgard, collect Sif, and bring her to join the fun,” Thor grinned. You knew you could count on him to be down for a party. You just wondered if he would _ever_ ask that woman to marry him.

“Are you going to sing me one?” Steve asked, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Three years together. Three glorious years. Three years of such happiness you almost felt guilty.

Almost.

You’d gone through so many transitions in the last three years. Agent of Shield to Avenger. Avenger to blind Valkyrie. You’d found your sjelevenn and become the Valkyrie Queen you’d always been born to be, and now you were a mother to two amazing children with, Norns willing, more to come. You had family everywhere you looked from Midgard to Asgard, from the Valkyrjur to Valhalla and even into Sváfaland.

Your life was complete. Your heart full. Your soul at rest.

So much of that was because of the incredible man standing with his arms around you. He’d brought you so much love, so much joy, and through the years the bond between you had returned nearly fifty percent of your sight. You had the best of both worlds in what Matty had taught you, and what Steve had given back.

You smiled at him, pressed up on your toes, and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Yeah, I am,” you said when you lifted your mouth.

You knew just which one.

**_-The End_ **

* * *

_hersker av min sjel_ , _gud av livet mitt -_ ruler of my soul, God of my life

_Min søte raseri, elskede kone -_ my sweet fury, beloved wife


End file.
